For as maddening and stressful as it was to be thrust into this place with no easy way home, at least they mostly spoke Common. He'd be twice lost otherwise. He tried again to puzzle out her words as she spoke, but however lovely it sounded tripping from her tongue, it was no clearer than the first time.

He came to sit beside her where she worked with her needle, and after a few bites of savory meat pie so good in this wasteland of chicken that he could've kissed her, Vax tried a different approach. The phrase he offered was in another language, soft and lilting, requiring finer dexterity of tongue. "Os vor shyr sari eir paelolor ol eilia sylia." She'd got a good look at his ears while he'd fixed his plate. If she spoke something else, it might be Elvish.