Amelie paused for a moment, brown eyes widening as the boy moved slightly to keep her hand against his face. War took its toll on men. Not that she should be sympathising with the enemy, but they were away from home for months or even years. Maybe this was the first gentle touch he'd felt in a long time, by a woman as well. "Ursula Sigurd," she echoed after him, tilting her head slightly. She hadn't moved her hand, and she couldn't really give herself a good reason why not. After a moment more, she took it back to herself - though strangely, she somehow missed the sensation of his slightly rough, warm cheek underneath her palm. It wasn't like there were a lot of young men in her village anymore.

"How old are you? When did you join the army?"

The questions seemed to tumble out of her mouth, but she was so curious about the boy that she was hiding - it couldn't be helped.