"Oh, no one's going to call the Shepherds over a bit of harmless fun," she scoffs. She brings up the tart and takes a bite out of it, sighing out her nose with clear relish at the taste, then leans her elbow on the counter. "Do you want to go down to see her? Camilla, I mean." Obviously. "If the snow will just melt a bit, my caravan can give you a lift."