"Depends on the name." It's not quite quick enough to qualify as comedic-timing-immediacy, but she doesn't seem riled (or bothered) by the cheer. Rather, she seems comfortable with it, and for a while she observes him as he gets the old ones off. "What's yours?"

She suspects he'll have to hammer out new ones after taking measurements, which is not a quick process, but Stoneshell's got at least one pub she doesn't hate, if memory serves, and it's not all bad to get out in the daylight here and there.