Through the start-stop of words, Jude's shoulders prop up slightly, lifting his posture up off the door frame, then relaxing back under his worn scrubs as it culminates in her admission. He'd been far more cagey than curious when he arrived, but things had been muddled even before the fountain. Dangerous, if anything he recalls is real.

"I'm making a batch of paper," he answers evenly, letting his back open the door all the way as he moves into it. "Boil it inside, dry it outside. Sometimes people get journals and things in boxes, but there's no guarantee, so I try to make it when I have time."

Glancing over her again, he notices the tattoos--same style and random placement as Isabelle, but that's where the similarities between them seem to end. Maybe something in the attitude--if she's this gung-ho about knocking on doors this fresh on the ground, maybe she's the type to run around with a machete, too. "Uh, do you want some water or something?" Anything more complicated, he'll probably have to point her back to the inn, but when someone knocks on the door, you try to offer something.