Ziichi nearly passes by at first, too busy with trying to manage chatter on the family's comline and snapping, 'Haleth, Jan, behave," into it. The sound outside her little world startles her out of her nagging, and she backtracks a few steps, peering down curiously at the beggar. A glance is given boh ways, before she crouches, arms draped over her bony knees, and gives a gentle prod to the man's shoulder.
"...c'mon," she finally grumbles, standing again and ruffling her fingers absently through her frizzy mass of hair. "Let's git y'all cleaned up an' fed, an' go checkin' yerself for injuries, huh?"
With a frown of concentration, she barks into the com, "Larrk, puddin', git some clothes outta storage."
Elsewhere, on the other end of the line, the Kaldorei groans in exasperation. She was doing it again, wasn't she? Here came another week of trying to shove some beggar onto various farms, or having them sort his wares (he'd have to redo it, as she never seemed to teach them properly), and the awkward hours of her attempting to cut hair, mend clothes, and usher some mostly-naked person about as she groomed them.
"Yes, yes, of course," the Druid sighs in response, whilst his wife busies herself in trying to drag the man to his feet.