Sethi hovers close at Chloe's shoulder, studying the crew of the new ship, eyeing their new companion with his massive, animal bodyguard.  At one point, the ginger-haired girl polishes the flecks of dried ichor from her daggers.  At another, she fidgets with the facets of her studded leather body-armor, the creases and joints creasing and chafing at her from long wear.<br/><br/>When Cairn offers her the possessions of the fallen men, she nods in agreement.  "Right... I know what these are."  She fans a couple of the lockpicks in her bare fingers where they protrude from her gauntlets.  Holding one slender, delicately-turned steel bit to the sky, she mutters on.  "Hope I don' snap the thing tryin' to use it."  She grins faintly at Cairn then, nodding in thanks.  She swirls the flask against the light as well ((I assume it's labeled, or one of the mages has indicated its purpose)), and nods in thanks.  "We may need that, certainly."  Smiling up at Cairn, she reaches for the woman's arm, giving it a light tug.<br/><br/>"Look... I, ah... don't want to interfere with your charge or nothin', right?"  she flicks her eyes momentarily toward the druid.  "Put in a good word for me, if ye can."  She nods at the woman and pauses, then turns back with a subtle curiosity in her half-closed eyes, which are rimmed in shadow from her exhaustion.  "Was it..?"  Shaking her head, she turns away.  "er... never mind."  She edges away then, a nod of camaraderie, and heads toward her cabin.  She staggers lightly with the pitch and roll of the ship-- clearly, she's unused to being at sea-- but regains her balance before disappearing below deck.<br/><br/>She opens the door to the room where Chloe rests... she checks to see if there are other berths or hammocks, uncertain if they will be alone.   Her leather-clad feet are soft against the floor, and the ship creaks gently with the rock of the waves.  Standing by Chloe's side for a moment, she spreads one hand as if to wake the sorceress, and settles instead for the restraint of her job... she scans the sorceress over, looking for any bandage or wound that would indicate she was hurt before; of course, the more likely explanation was that the sorceress was suffering from menstrual cramps, or stomach trouble... neither of which would be likely to show on the unflappable sorceress' garb.<br/><br/>With a soft sigh, she murmurs, "Night, Chloe..." and begins working at her armor's buckles and straps, piling it neatly beside her hammock.  Her armor padding is next, leaving her in her sweat-stained shirt.  She finds fresh water, knowing its value at sea will be higher than on dry land, and pours a small basin half-full.  She first dips her finger into the chalky powder in one of her pouches, then rubs it over her teeth, working into the crevices of the back teeth and massaging the gums, then wipes down her face.  Shedding the last garment, she dips her shift into the water and wipes herself down-- scrubbing with the balled-up garment as best she can before soaking it in the water again and wringing it out to the best of her ability.  She feels better, then, fishing a fresh shirt from the saddlebag of her belongings and drawing it over her damp, dark hair.<br/><br/>Tying it back, then, with a short length of tattered and faded ribbon she keeps tied around her wrist, she finally sighs in relief.  She eyes her armor and belts, then, selecting a few of her daggers and thunking them into the wood wall next to where she will sleep.  "Old friends," she thinks, then pulls the exquisite kukri knife she saves for dueling.  "You're getting more than your share, aren't ye?"<br/><br/>She tucks the kukri and sheath against her body, then sets about one last check of the decks.