Need very much wants to tease at him and settles for a "You Ulis-prelates aren't claustrophobic at all, then" that might be a neutral statement.

"We tried very hard to say it wasn't charity," she says with a huff of laughter. "Including rules about kicking out shirkers, but it's hard for the wounded to learn or work, and not all wounds bleed. We made such a lot of things to try and sell to keep the whole thing running, it really helped that there was a market for my swords. But I did teach too. Smithwork, mostly. How to bind magic to hot metal. Forge-songs, to help with rhythm and for the Crafter-Twin."

Though she's kept teaching, it's a very different experience, to be a bodiless presence looking through a student's eyes and moving her hands to show her what to do, then it had been to demonstrate and oversee. Strange thought. Strange recollection. And of course, she hasn't taught smith skills often if at all, and that the god who loved forge-songs and who she'd embraced after leaving the Fighter behind is long gone.

"...It was good," she says, more quietly and mainly to herself. Need will pull herself back together and ask about the Ceireizhese in a moment.