The girl plays with it, eventually starts putting some in a braid. "...Your hair's white but you're not old at all," she says. "Why is it white?" 

"Well, my mother's hair was white, too, and she wasn't old. I think it's just one of those things, like Wilbur being big."

"I wish my hair was white," the girl says sadly. (It's a dull earthy brown, the same as her entire family.) "It looks so nice and shiny in the sun." 

"I think your hair looks very nice. There are things you can get hair with your texture to do that are much harder when your hair is as smooth as mine."

"Ooh, ooh, like what? Are they pretty? Mama will braid my hair sometimes but I think it looks boring." 

"Does she do a normal three-stranded plait?"

"Yes," the oldest girl answers for her, showing her own single braid hanging down her back. "I thought that's what a plait was. Are there other kinds?" 

"Yeah! Want me to show you?"

"Me first me first!" the younger sister says, jumping up and down. 

Her littler brothers look jealous. (Their hair is cropped at ear-length). 

Lucy has to go slow and concentrate some--it turns out this hairstyle is significantly harder with only two hands--but she can still answer questions during if there are any.

Then the older sister wants it too, and Vanyel plays with the younger two boys, who are kind of bored of hairstyling by now. He seems to like children.

By the time she's done, supper is ready. The meal is almost certainly not one that the farmers can afford to eat every day; they're pulling out their best for the visiting Heralds. (The children are delighted). There's fresh bread, and butter and soft cheese and berry-jam to go with it, and then creamy soup, and greens drizzled with honey, and a whole roasted chicken. The mother offers weak homebrewed barley-ale to the Heralds and to Lucy and Wilbur. 

...Lucy has no idea what affect alcohol is likely to have on her, but...well, it's basically a weak neurotoxin, and it's not like any other toxins have any effect on her? She will accept. 

Yeah, sure.

They eat and drink and Vanyel eats way more than usual with much less fuss. Savil drinks quite a lot of the ale, until her cheeks are pink and she starts regaling the little ones with (both censored and embellished) stories of her adventures as a Herald. 

Lucy, true to her predictions, does not get even a little bit tipsy from the amount of ale she drinks. 

The food is delicious, though, and she's effusive in her praises of it. 

It's dark by the time they're done, and time to retire to bed. The couple is apologetic; their cottage only has two rooms, the parents sleep in one of them and the littles sleep all together in a straw-ticking mattress in a sort of attic-loft. Maybe the two ladies can have the couple's bed, and the boy can have the loft? The family can sleep out in the barn for a night. But they don't have a bed big enough for Wilbur, and are worried he's going to be terribly offended about having to sleep out in the barn too. 

"We," Savil says firmly, "absolutely do not need to take over your beds. In fact, we can all sleep out in the barn. Us Heralds like to be near our Companions." :Lucy, does that suit you all right?:

:Hay is soft!:

"Mama Mama but we want to sleep in the barn!" The children seem to think this sounds like great fun. 

:I haven't interacted with a child since Wilbur when we were little but it turns out they're great.:

The parents are eventually persuaded that a sleepover in the barn is acceptable, and the children run off giggling and grinning to collect their blankets and bring them over. The barn smells very strongly of the chickens and milch-cow that the family owns, but it's roomy and warm and has some open space to bed down. 

Lucy and Wilbur didn't even hate the Wyrsa stink that much, the barn smells fine. 

Lucy will cheerfully tell the children stories from her world for later than their parents would probably be happy about but eventually has to insist they sleep and pretend to do the same. 

...It's nice, being curled up in human form somewhere cozy surrounded by people who like her. 

They're woken early, unfortunately. The chickens don't see any reason to change their routine based on the visiting humans, and they're loud. 

Vanyel stays in his bedroll for a while looking grumpy about this fact but eventually drags himself up with a resigned look. 

:Does this world have coffee?: Lucy asks Savil.