The hawk eyed Drow nodded her head slowly as she stepped to the side, leaving the way open towards the boat and her supplies. Walking with sure and swift strides towards the ruin of the Dwarven ship, Zarriia called back over her shoulder. "Don't get greedy, it's got to last us both." Her smile was a feral grin that promised nothing good. "Or I may have to reduce the numbers." The threat in that statement clear and deadly as any of the knives she carried. If he wasted even a morsel she'd gut him. Torture him, enjoy him. Her blood sung with glee at the thought. While she wasn't needlessly blood thirsty, Zarriia was a drow and as such she enjoyed the letting of blood. It fascinated her and thrilled her as few other things did.

Observing the ship she loosened her daggers and sword. Prepared for any attack that may take her by surprise. Her feet moving to more easily balance herself, or spring away should the ship be unstable. Ready for the worst was her motto, and reap the best. Nothing bad could happen when you expected only the worst. With her keen eye, Zarriia was always keen to get the best. Often it was no matter the cost especially when hunting history or things of her amusements. Reaching the ship she peered into the darkness, carefully scoping for any threat or attack. Her hand on her sword hilt.