Over the course of the journey aboard the boat, most of the group would have mt Chevri, at least from time to time. The young shifter, wrapped in a too-large cloak had spent most of the voyage up near the prow of the boat; she hardly ever seemed to sleep, but was most active at night. She almost never seemed to speak, and none of those aboard had heard her speak above a whisper. She had been helpful enough aboard ship, though, including acting as a healer from time to time. In particular, she had had little enough contact with Aric and his homonculus, and only a bit more with Vorik (and that mostly when helping heal sick or injured crewmen, or engaging in a bit of theological debate). She often seemed a bit distant, or perhaps distracted- especially if the weather was unsettled- but when drawn into conversation she was pleasant enough, though she listened far more than she spoke.
She was the last one off the boat and onto the dock, and today she seemed even more distracted than usual. While the others were talking, she wandered over to the edge of the dock and gazed down into the brackish water for a while. After a time, she noticed the others had moved on, over towards one of the locals, selling their 'world drawn on paper' pieces. Chevri got back to her feet and trotted after the group, like a wayward puppy. As she stepped around the side of the pack, she looked at the seller for just a moment, and noticed the fresh scar on his face. "Oh you poor fellow," she purred. "Does that hurt? I have some salve..."