She smiles as she tugs on the hair wrapped around her finger and plucks it free. Individually, her hair is long and jut slightly waved, the strand shines like gold in a cold light, and she winds it between her fingers until its length is turned several times over.

"If your situation is truly dire, I have used strands like this to string bows and line fishing rods." She tells him, softly, and presses the strand into his hand. "It shall not break, not so long as it shares my will."