At this hour, in the transition from evening to night, there's only one other person there, a bedraggled parent with a not-quite-toddler dozing in a sling on their back, wearily cleaning exactly the kind of linens that end up soiled at unusual hours by small children. They do this over by the drain and the outflow pipe, so there's no unfortunate downstream to negotiate, and while there's a moment of perplexed stillness, parenthood proves too exhausting for his presence to cause much concern and they return to work.

Over their shoulder Vena trots carelessly into the dark forge. If Guts pays attention he'll see her crouching by some floorboards and prying them up but otherwise it'd be hard to tell. After a few minutes she comes out with a cloak-wrapped bundle that's probably supposed to look like the cloak is just rolled up longways and no change in expression or demeanor, and veers off towards the refectory and out of sight.

The parent washes their hands, hangs their linens up on a rack with various other damp articles, and hesitates... then very shyly offers Guts a piece of cloth with a mumbled "To dry with."