He scoffed out a laugh, waving his hand. "No, no, not thrifty, inventive. We're not settling in anywhere, not even here, so who can afford to be as carefree as we like?"

The rest of what was in his rucksack comes out as simple piles: two more cloaks, a number of tied together books with messy pages, two wooden combs, and a jar of pickled vegetable of some kind. That he handled carefully, holding out to Eleven with a different kind of grin.

"This one's for you, Mina, Sizhui, and the rest of the youngest ones. Still growing, ah? Good for health!"

More like good for an addition to the millet acting still as staple, and a way of ensuring more varied diet for the youngest ones, of which there were a handful by now.