Sometimes a bar is a good place for a child. Because it's crowded and bright and bartenders see everything. That sort of a child needs a place like that because nowhere else really offers it.

Steph didn't grow up in an easy era and there's a look on that girl, a familiar hunch of her shoulders, that softens the soldier to her almost immediately.

She approaches at an easy walk, her smile friendly without pushing familiarity. There's a hand resting gently on the back of the stool beside the girl and Steph tilts her head, trying to gather attention. "Mind if I take a seat?"