Knowing how badly her own hand aches from time to time, she can imagine that Sina truthfully feels anything but lucky. Her frown deepens into a sad furrow, and for a few seconds she sits there in the grass, completely speechless.

Then: "I'm Fern," she says, a hasty introduction before the silence can grow too awkward. She gets to her feet, wobbling a little when she steps on a loose bit of earth rather than moss, and dusts grass off of her tunic and leggings. She takes a few steps closer to Sina, eyes drawn now to her vallaslin. "--sorry," she mumbles, "for staring, I mean, I've just--I've never met a Dalish elf before." This added with another shy smile, that tinge of pink coming to her cheeks again.