His naive generosity is one of the many reasons Nelda often affectionately called him a mark, though he'd like to think she would also offer food to a mother in need. Maybe with a warier eye than the fretful ones that Farogil watches the woman with.

And then the guardsman leaves them. Abandons the wildwoman and her newborn with the half-mute, though in his defense, he doesn't know of Faro's talking trouble and clearly has a good reason to run off. Still, Faro casts a forlorn look at the door as he slowly slides into a chair at the table.

"I'm Ffarogil. Do you..." Faro mimes holding the infant then hesitantly holds his hands forward, palms up ready to accept her. Why should she trust a stranger to hold her baby? She's managing to eat just fine with one arm. But he's not equipped to ask what's going on are you ok and, well, that's got to be better than awkward silence, isn't it?