[ The stranger throws her hands up, the cloak falling back at the gesture to reveal a long, somewhat tattered white gown, whose wide sleeves fall down slim forearms. ]

Mine!!

[ Obviously!! (Or not, given the complete lack of context she gave.) ]

And I am calling you a child, since you are one - all of fourteen years old -

[ The way the woman gets a hold of herself is much like someone scooping a small, yapping dog into their arms, if the dog was their own feelings, and they wrapped their arms tightly around their middle with a heated sigh to contain them. ]

So you consider yourself robust? Above the norm, for wherever you came from, or typical?