[At the knock, Hawk lifts the water kettle from the fire and goes to open the door. The tea is in expectation of the guest, although it's a staple of the still-cool evenings whether or not they have visitors.]

Krile. [She looks none the worse for wear, but still he wants to shoo her in from the cold and seat her in the warmest place by the hearth. He settles for smiling, rather more gently than is his wont.] It's good to see you. Tea? Afraid we don't keep that coffee stuff in the house, though I gather it's popular.