Whisper, quiet as her namesake, working through the meal offered her, quiet about her as she glances about, noting where the other patrons are, but not intruding upon them.  She is pleasant though.  A smile offered in kindness to those who seek to meet her eyes, but she is a woman of few words, and quiet ones at that.  AS said the meal of fruit and veg is filling and just what she wanted, light, refreshing, washed away with milk.  The girl takes both glass and plate back to the bar, a pair of silver pieces resting in the glass she was given, "My thanks to you and your's for the meal." she says to the inn keeper.