Yorda chewed the inside of her cheek. She would have corrected him, but the man was volatile - she didn't want to incite his wrath again, so she remained silent.

A small flock of birds fluttered into the square and Yorda reached into her bag of baked goods to break off half a loaf of bread. She tore off chunks and tossed them towards the scavenging flock, her pensive expression far too old for a girl who was, at most, in her mid teens.

"What..." she hesitated, searching his expression out the corner of her eye for signs of wrath, and then pressed on. "What do you think is not a terrible way to live?"