The elf seems disinterested by their questioning, sighing boredly and clearly just wanting to be done with this whole business.  He is but an employee of Lord Frostspear and appears to think that this whole business is beneath him, but is doing his job, nonetheless.  "Yes, you may occupy me back to the manor," he first answers with an exasperated sigh before regarding the Tortle's questions, once more seeming to sneer a little at having to speech with<em>it</em>.<br/><br/>"I don't know what Lord Frostspear does with it, though it does seem to enjoy our grapes.  Not so much the wine the grapes make...just the grapes.  I think it's allowed to eat a portion of the grapes we grow in exchange for its service of guarding the vineyard," the elf sighs again.  He seems to sigh a lot.  "As for a new coin pouch...take that up with Lord," He dismisses this trivial piece of information with a hand wave.<br/><br/>Just about then, Brunhilda comes out of the kitchen with a small wooden plate, a steaming loaf of fresh breath with its savory aroma wafting in the air indicating it is fresh from the oven.  The little wooden plate acts as a cutting board, a serrated knife resting on the plate along with a small bowl of freshly churned butter.  It looks like a very nice little snack for someone who isn't partial to having eggs and sausage, and yet the elf still seems to regard it as something unpleasant to eat.<br/><br/>"There you are, dearie," Brunhilda smiles, though not the genuine smile she gives the patrons, this one seems forced, like a teenager working at the local general store for minimum coin and no job satisfaction.  She sets it down and asked, "That'll be two copper."<br/><br/>The elf rolls his eyes, reaching into a hefty coin purse and producing the two small coins from a myriad of silver and gold before placing it in her outstretched hand.  As soon as she walked off, he takes a small white cloth out of his pocket and goes about cleaning his hands.