Gideon didn't know exactly what she was trying to tell him. This might have been an attempt to explain where she'd been all day and what she'd been doing, but if that was the case it wasn't much of one. Catching bowtruckles was an exhausting and time-consuming business, he was sure, but he didn't really believe that it had occupied her for the entire day. He certainly didn't believe that it was the reason behind the state that she'd been in when she came back to the shop, or for the mood she was in. Not that she needed to explain the mood she was in, of course; he knew what was on her mind. More likely, he thought, the bowtruckle bit was her way of telling him that she still wasn't ready to talk about it. He could sympathize with that. This was a decision that would affect the rest of her life, after all, and it wasn't a decision that had, as far as he was concerned, a right answer. The best case scenario had already passed them by. The window for her having a normal childhood had closed when she'd started living on the streets in the first place, back when he still hadn't even known she existed.

"Have you eaten?" he asked abruptly. The conversation needed to be had, and the decision needed to be made, but if she wasn't ready to launch into it yet he had no desire to force her. They could still talk about it tonight without having to talk about it now, and maybe some food and a warm bath and clean clothes might put her in a better state of mind for the conversation. "Let's have soup," he suggested, moving towards the front of the store to lock up.