Sethi lingers near the hammocks, perched against the wall with the horn of rum resting on her knee.  She'd filled the thing to the brim when she was offered, and though she has slowed now she first hit the cup with a couple of long swallows that quickly dulled her burning eyes to embers of subdued anxiety, pacified and mellow, as she enjoyed the soft, melodic rocking of the ship.  Maybe it's the rum, but she doesn't seem to care a lick, before those in the hold, that she's perched with bare legs stretching out from the low hem of her plain shirt.<br/><br/>She regathered her items when they first made their way back to the hold, and now she sits with the sheathed rapier propped up to stand near her shoulder, the unsheathed kukri in her hand-- she isn't concerned about how menacing the hooked blade might seem, and spins it in her hand again and again, enjoying the soft whirr of the metal through the air, the release and recapture of the leather-wrapped grip in her palm.  As her nerve settle, so does the blade, and soon she simply taps it against the wooden hull, then finally resigns to resheathing it.<br/><br/>With another long drink, the young woman speaks and fixes her eyes on Cairn.  "I hope we're done fighting today," she says softly, then turns her eyes to Chloe.  "I just don't want to put that fucking armor back on."  She laughs then-- laughs harder, in fact, than she should at the silly joke, and fixes her eyes on Aodh.  "Am I mad?"  She tips her face to the side, as if honestly considering it.  "Course, your guardian might agree-- considering her recent victory that came-- how is it that the nature-touched call it?  Sky-clad?"  She then takes a long pull from the cup.  "Oh, gods, you two are so lucky..." she lifts two long, slender fingers from the cup, the gesture vaguely an indication of Cairn and Aodh.  "You already got to see your partner's exquisite bits," she says 'exquisite with a little bit of a slurring ex, "and she already got to make magic with her-- and by the gods," she looks comically wide-eyed, "if what I heard was any hint, it was ungodly good, eh?"<br/><br/>She laughs aloud then, takes another drink, and sinks over to laugh to herself-- gasping, girlish laughs-- against a stack of dry goods crates draped in heavy canvas.<br/><br/>*<br/><br/>Arriving at the Port of the Moon, Sethi's taken the sailors' warnings and prepared herself.  The hardest thing about being on ship for these days was the confining hold itself.  When weather has permitted, she's stayed on-deck most of the time, working alongside the men where possible-- but only remedial tasks.  She seems to lack the attention span for anything like knots, rigging, navigation or the like.  She hangs by her arms from yardarms and pulls herself up again and again, hangs by her knees and sits up to fold her body again and again.  She practices with her rapier still sheathed, sharpens her weapons and argues with the sailors over the best method-- anything to keep her own edge.<br/><br/>"Salt air dulls ain't good for the blades," she complains softly, for the hundredth time, as they watch the port roll closer.  "Hope we're ready for what's waiting in there."  She nods in affirmation when the captain offers the gems, shrugging toward Chloe to indicate that the sorceress handles such things on her behalf.