[i]Your losses were none, eh?[/i] Catarina was on the brink of informing the merry Italian of precicely what she had lost, but alas, her tongue was stilled by the approach of another curious onlooker. His starkly black attire made him all the more pale, the faint sheen of the cross at his back a whisper of his pious nature. Catarina raised a brow as both performer and newcomer immediately engaged in what she supposed was their native tongue--what was that all about? Perhaps they were already familiar with one another?

[i]Ay, foreigners. If one could understand them at a glance, war would be much less common in the strange world of men.[/i] Catarina politely stepped away from the conversation, but not before casting a curious glance at yes, yet another foreigner that'd approached the singer. Honestly, given the man's boulder-like presence, she'd been surprised that the first words out of his mouth had been of proper language and not some nordic caveman speech. If the man cared to turn his head just enough to catch her walk away, she would speak to him with her eyes, which glinted mischeviously. "[i]If we should be attacked, I'll know exactly who to hide behind.[/i]"

Ultimately, Catarina found herself headed towards the prow of the ship--despite the slight chill rolling off the dark waves, she wouldn't return to that prison of water and wood that was the lower deck until it was absolutely nessesary. Though she was still trapped upon the water, on the deck she still had the sky. Black as it was, the sheet of evening was full of stars, each a mystical gem. Far as she grew from her homeland, that would at least remain the same.

"'Ey! That's mine!"

One of the crewman glared at her as she passed by, a juicy red apple in her hand. It'd been sitting so unguarded on the makeshift table next to him that it would have been an outright shame not to take it. And she was sure to inform him of that.

Just as the man was about to stand up and come at her, some fellow next to him took a hold of his shoulder. "There's plenty to go around--making a fuss over an apple and with a woman, no less, is just going to get you in trouble."

Catarina smiled broadly at the interruption before holding the fruit to her lips and breathing in its sweet, earthy scent. "Mercy me, such kindness! Had I been pressed, I might have offered up a kiss to soothe you."

As the two men blinked, Catarina laughed. She gave the lovely fruit a gentle kiss before tossing it back to its former owner.

"That one's trouble." She heard one of the fellows chuckle as she turned her back and again made her way towards the jutting point of the deck. Honestly, the little feud did make her feel a bit better, her heart faster and her skin warmer from the flush of blood. She needed all the distractions she could get.