[Corstine shrugs at that. She's also dressed warmly - although in a much different fashion than Fennel. She's wearing some kind of animal furs underneath a simple iron breastplate, with an iron helmet resting on her head.]

Hey fella, do what you want. S'none of my business where you wanna stand.

[She looks him over with her one good eye - the other follows the same motions, but there's no mistaking it for anything functional. The cornea and iris have greyed over, and the white of her left eye is completely stained black.

His bruises might not stand out as much, but she still notices them. It doesn't take much to realize how he got them, all things considered.]

So I guess you just got out of the... place? The big one, with all the beds and healers an' shit in it?