[ ah, that must have been the square object she had felt in the pockets earlier. she hadn't thought to empty the pockets at all, beyond pressing exploring fingers in to search for any sharp objects she might injure herself with. finding none, she thought to leave well alone what she finds; after all, it is not her garment to mind, and she mends without permission.

with some bashfulness, she ducks her head at the praise. it is nothing she hasn't heard before, but it's been some time since anyone had said a good thing about her, or for her. to her. ]

I've been mending what clothes I could find that needs it. It's the least that I could do, I don't have coin to trade for room or food; I don't want to seem ungrateful.

[ she doesn't shy from the touch to her knee, either, to her surprise. ]

I think it's still in the pockets - the left one? I hadn't taken anything out, it felt rude to do so. Do you...?

[ she offers the pocket to darling, should he want to take the paper from the garment now. ]