Elsa turns to look at the man who approaches, the ice she was playing with collapsing abruptly from its fanciful shapes to land at her feet. She is, in a way, accustomed to being startled. What she wants is to be less afraid when it happens, and sometimes she succeeds. Her heart beats a little too fast and she's aware of her pulse in her wrists, but she doesn't let the voice or the man panic her tonight. She turns and the ice falls, instead of flying through the air at him. It's been a slow process, but a necessary one, and she's learning.

"That's alright," she says, shaking her head. She doesn't want to trouble him and he doesn't seem bothered by what she was doing. "There's plenty of space here for two."