"Eleven. All right, then." Given what she's just agreed to do, it's important to commit that number to memory. She smiles. "I'll come by once I'm settled."

Perhaps, by that time, she can also brainstorm her memory for something useful to do about the food supply. Meja can clearly picture Fenrir wrinkling his nose at her for not working as hard as she could on magic. But at least here, it seems there will be ample time to do so.