Hearing the clear voice call out, Clarice peeked out of the kitchen, seeing an odd look girl with... wings?<br/><br/>"Uhm... hello..."<br/><br/>She dived back inside and quickly scrubbed her hands clean and threw the apron in the corner. Might as well not scare of any newcomers, Vira was perfectly good at handling that on her own. Stepping out of the kitchen she hit her head on a pipe. Ship wasn't low in the ceiling, she was just vertically blessed. Amazon, someone had once called her, but that was rubbish, anyone could see that she was a gator... human. She waltz up to the girl, taking a particular interest in the wings that were softly moving with her.<br/><br/>"Ah do declare, Ah can't say Ah evah metcha before, Missy..."<br/><br/>She looked back, making sure no one else was answering the call. She leaned in close, the pair almost slipping out of her chainmail blouse as she did.<br/><br/>"Do ya have an appointmint with Miss Vira? 'Cuz if you don't, Ah hopcha like cold showers and public humiliation."<br/><br/>She looked back again before stretching back to her full length, once more hitting a pipe.<br/><br/>"But where's mah manners? Welcome to da ship. Ah'm Clarice, huntswoman and chef of da crew."<br/><br/>She stretched out her hand in greeting. They were surprisingly soft for such a profession. One might think that, but truth be told, a bit of digging in guts and rubbing blood into your skin does miracles after a week or two out in the wild.