[By this point she's found a half wall to rest the bar on and a something she can hold in one hand, and is attacking the tip with a will. She doesn't seem surprised to be addressed.]

I hope so.

[The old woman holds up... this is a poking stick, that's all she can say, and examines the end. Her voice is rough and cracked and a bit querulous, but there's still vigor in it.]

Be better if I had a hammer and an anvil. Better yet if I could heat it first, not that this would get me anything great. But, it's more dangerous now than when I started.

[She looks over at her audience with a crooked half smile.]

I was a swordsmith once. Been a long time though.