Tha'ael makes careful note of the healer-- there's one to keep alive, second to one's self.  Ebirc looks to be considerably more than just some meek medic, that much is certain.  Tavah, Ava, and Analise-- definitely seasoned adventurers as well, but the martial types; there'd be some flexing and posturing yet.<br/><br/>Falling in line-- for now, at least, she's no intention of standing out more than she already does-- she eyes the quartermaster's wares for a moment, measuring them against their existing supplies.  The vaults will be extensive, dark, cold, dangerous... what the hell else could be done to prepare?<br/><br/>Thinking on it, she nudges aside a few quarrels of bolts and looks for any unusual arrows-- the types of weapons purported to aid against strange creatures... those particularly vulnerable to silver, or cold iron, or the like... and if she finds them she'll pay (ruefully) the market price.<br/><br/>When the crew is ready to depart, she will be, too-- offering even a coy, gentle smile of greeting.