Théadan’s reaction to hearing Iradocians could be a danger to her had Navia casting him as sidelong glance that was paired with a brief smirk. It was the droll thread in his voice as he clearly recollected on how he had also stolen Navia away that amused her. She knew he would never allow such a fate the befall her again, nor would she, and so had very little worry concerning possibly being kidnapped. What she did know was that Théadan likely meant what he said; she probably wouldn’t be given the chance to wander like she so enjoyed. Perhaps it was for the best, seeing as she was not at all familiar with Terlingua. Risho appeared placated by Théadan’s dedication to her safety though, so he was soon turning back to his duties as captain and Théadan was moving to face her better.<br/><br/>A grin was instantly upon her lips when he spoke of her royalty and desire to venture out on her own. Shrugging and then nodding her agreement, Navia reached out to smooth a hand across the front of his shirt while she considered the observations Théadan made of her. He was spot on in her mind, many had said it before, but what was nice was she knew how much Théadan liked it about her. And she in turn liked that he did. He moved on to the prospect of Terlingua though, and Navia could tell he was excited. She was as well; she wanted to explore with him. “I haven’t either,” Navia admitted, thinking of all the other people she’d ever met from other countries, “Since we share a border with Irados, I’ve met several from there, but never those from Marros. As for Terlingua,” Navia paused to shrug, before grinning and taking a small step closer to Théadan, “It sounds very busy and perhaps a bit wild, but I know it’ll be fun and exciting if I have you with me.”<br/><br/><br/><br/>The few hours it took them to reach Terlingua’s port went quickly. More and more birds flew by their vessel, giving them something to watch for, as well as other ships. They spent much of their time up near the helm so they had a higher vantage point, giving them nice views of the simplicity and hardiness of Mes’Mo’Tanian ships, the artistry of the Khluri, and the unfamiliar looks and colors of what they figured were Marroan or Iradocian ships. It grew more crowded as they neared the port, though never to the capacity one of the continental ports might. By the time the sailors were busy on the deck yelling out commands and helping each other so they could bring the ship in to the designated docking spot, Navia was brimming with energy and excitement. It seemed it would be difficult to do, lining up the side of the large vessel with the wooden dock well enough to tie it down and lay out the gangplank, yet the crew did so with practiced ease.<br/><br/>It was Risho who left the ship first, a small sack in hand and a smile on his face. A portly, short-statured man awaited, bundled up in a cloak and hat on his head. Pale skin and a red mustache spoken of his likely Mes’Mo’Tanian heritage, but he greeted Risho in perfect Khluri. Curious, Navia leaned against the side of the ship near the plank down. “He knows Khluri,” she commented in surprise, her own cloak settled around her shoulders. It was still chilly to her, but more pleasant than the freezing temperatures of Mes’Mo’Tan. “That makes sense, I guess,” Navia decided before turning back to Théadan, “There are probably many people here who know several languages, don’t you think?” Before he would have a chance to answer, several of the men on board were hurrying into motion, gathering toward the plank to disembark. Then came Risho’s call to Théadan and Navia, and he waved to them to leave the ship first. With a smile, Navia held out her hand to him, “Ready? Should we go to the markets first?”