Realizing her slip of the tongue, she looks mortified and avoids Balfor's and Lon's eyes for a few moments.<i>Aaaand great, now they'll think I'm a trollup, in addition to being a country mouse.  Uncle Jae must be clawing his way from the grave to throttle me at this very moment...</i>The then gives a casual shrug, suppresses a laugh's outburst only so much as to keep it silent behind a mirthful, self-depricating smile.<br/><br/>When Lon takes up the mugs, Joli nods vigorously and gratefully, hoisting up her gear and slinging the pack over one shoulder before raising her soup.  The old armor creaks slightly when she stands, and she follows Lon at a respectful distance to join Balfour, Alcfrid, Lorraine, Laurin-- whom she'd just suddenly noticed was a woman of overt beauty and almost certainly exceptional manners-- and the rest of the caravaneers... caravaners... um... caravan people?<br/><br/>Unconsciously, she looks at Lorraine again, and rather than trying to play casual she simply smiles-- the gesture is almost too broad for her fine features, accompanied by a tilt of the head and full of something like admiration.<br/><br/>She watches and listens for a moment as conersation ensues, and doesn't respond to Alchfrid's information, simply nods in an attempt to appear as though she's not getting her hopes up.  Her composure seems complete for the moment, though after a sip from the top of her ale, she keeps licking her lips, as if unsure about the taste.<br/><br/>She tries to study Laurin from one corner of her eye... is this the kind of woman that Jae was always cursing in his drunken rages, or was she the kind that his books revered with such magnitude..?<br/><br/>Regardless, she felt as though she was among fine company, and could barely keep her hand still as she lifted another spoonful of stew to her mouth.