[ Silver looks at him, then, and there's a dip to his chin like maybe he'd be looking over a pair of glasses if he had them. Or under the brim of a hat. It gives him a sharp and calculating expression just for a moment, like he sees more in Rosinate than the young man is letting on. Then he nods, as though he's come to a conclusion. ]

Aye, we heard all 'bout what were happenin' these last moons. Nasty business.

[ Turns out it's batter in that bowl, which he's pouring out onto an already powdered counter top. Some kind of bread? ]

You just come back let ol' Silver know if ye want any help with that, lad. I've gots me special stock just for this type a' thing.