Despite her misgivings about the train system, Mary found the train itself charming, in a certain way. It was a mesh between old technology and modern technology, made into a funny patchwork. There were plates of old metal and materials that could no longer be made, bracketed and reinforced by sturdier armor plating, fastened by warpiece-grade rivets. Every miniscule bump in the track made the conflicting metals shudder against each other. Each turn in the track caused the cars to lean, causing their lighter components to groan gently in protest and make a person wonder if the train was structurally sound. Of course, the train had made hundreds of journeys since its recommissioning, so there was no need to worry on account of engineering design. Stalwart liked to imagine she was being carried away in the belly of some enormous wyrm, crying into the wild as it relentlessly hunted its next meal.<br/><br/>She would not wander far, knowing that further information on their mission was forthcoming. What the mechanics talked of about crystals was hardly of any interest to her, and she let the conversation fade into background noise. As soon as Haas began to address them, she turned around and slowly walked back. She had apt enough hearing to clearly understand what he was saying, even from the other side of the car. Their senior caster had already given a rough approximation of the mission before, on the airship, but now there would be somewhat more specific details, along with new members of the crew to introduce. She listened, passively.<br/><br/>She made a silent note to get to know this Daemon freelancer that Haas had brought along. She was already familiar with the most common flora and fauna in the particular area, but this fellow would know the more specific threats and assets, and might know some more practical ways of approaching them than the typical Marine mindset of "shoot what threatens you." She assumed that she would be put in charge of preliminary mapmaking, and had, in fact, presumed that to be one of her roles when this assignment was handed down to her. As such, she'd made sure to pack the essentials for it, such as extra paper, writing supplies, and measuring equipment.<br/><br/>Once Judas finished saying his piece, and everybody went back to their own business, Mary approached the mercenary, and found herself focusing on the miniature wyvern on his shoulder. Her brow dipped; she hadn't noticed that, before, when they were racing to board the train on time, and she liked to think of herself as quite keen on details. She nearly opened by asking if the little metal creature belonged to the girl who was showing off her unusual playing cards, but there was something tellingly similar between the very large warpiece Daemon had brought and this much more compact model. Stalwart, of course, couldn't tell that they used the same core; she assumed it was a completely different machine.<br/><br/>So, instead, she got his attention with a different line: "That's the smallest 'piece..." Her expression was difficult to read. Was she concerned? Was she intrigued? Was she mocking him? She didn't seem like she was mocking him. After giving him a chance to react and/or explain himself, she held out a hand to be shaken. "Wing Sergeant Stalwart. Squad Scout." Never much for words, she left all the implications of the things she said to carry in the air, unspoken. Meanwhile, she pondered what tactical use such a small warpiece would have. She imagined that people in scouting roles, such as Daemon and herself, could possibly find it useful, but she felt like there would be an awful lot of mechanical and logistic compilcations to using such a sophisticated piece of machinery in such a small way. It couldn't possibly be very well armored; she guessed if she had to, she could take it out with a single, well-placed bullet.