"Absolutely. Maybe even after I choose one of these shacks." He gestures vaguely to the row of houses meandering off down the lane. And she'd dodged the particulars of the question earlier (don't think he hadn't noticed), so Reyes tries again now, his voice still casual and gently curious: "Are you an inn-dweller or home-owner? I promise I'm not planning on breaking into any buildings, no matter how suspicious my lurking might look."

Everyone's poor, everyone's scraping by; there's nothing to take from one's neighbours anyway, as far as he can tell, particularly when you can rummage through the communal supplies at the inn anyhow.