She blinked, a touch bemused, "I am not as others of the Dales. They are like unto you, well built, sunkissed of skin and hair. As such it is hard to truly believe me born of the Dales and the parentage the Dames proclaimed, even as such it cannot be proved my father was the man brought to die there." Many assumed the woman in question had found herself with an unwelcome pregnancy in flight and picked up a dying soldier to sell a story honestly.

She eyed her feet another moment then offered him the wash rag hesitantly? Much like being carried, she'd not had another tend her since very small. "A grade?"