Had the subject not been changed at Hroth's behest, Kei had it in mind to note the frequency in which she camped out and slept in barns. It was a little more common than she might have preferred several years ago, but sometimes it was tough to afford a room, and sometimes it was tough to get a job; what money she might have during those times would have to go to food or especially something to carry food in. She didn't seem to have such a thing at the moment. She was kind of bare; all she must have had here were the clothes on her back, which were relatively filthy. She, herself, was relatively filthy. On the road as she was, though, baths came only when the opportunity presented itself, and it just hadn't yet. There weren't any streams or lakes far enough away from civilization just yet.
Nonetheless, she'd slept in her fair share of barns, and she'd actually be willing to do it again. If Mrs. Fields wasn't going to budge with the room price, she might just do that.
The conversation, though Hroth might not have been trying for it, moved to something Kei was less fond of talking about. Obligation, debt, and all that jazz--those were just usual experiences in her life, things she made good on with relative frequency. Jobs, though . . . especially in the condition of that guy back there . . .
"Him? He's a pig."
Kei scoffed at the thought, even grumbled a bit. Her arms were folded over her chest already, and she tightened and tensed her arms as she thought about it.
"Apparently his son's moving out, right? Fine, sure. We talked about it; I wanted to just move all his son's stuff for him. No, you want to know what he wanted?" Kei was, at that point, fuming, "He wanted to hire me as a you know what for something like, God, I don't know, a house warming gift?"
The fumes died quickly though, and she wound up looking away with a look of hurt. There was a fair chance this wasn't the first time this happened before.