Fíadh's immediate reaction is to decline, and the words begin at a purse of her lips. But then a traitorous growl escapes her stomach, and the recognition of discomfort spreads through her entire body. She's drenched, she's cold, she's tired, she's hungry. This man is offering warmth and food. Ignoring her disdain for social obligations, she'd simply be an idiot to refuse.

She gives a curt nod in agreement before following him in.