"La- ...that is, Miss Catherine Stone," the redhead introduces herself, covering up the faulty beginning with a charming smile. Setting her hand in his, she withdraws it after their introductions in favor of finding herself a seat at the bar. "Wine, perhaps?" she chooses as her poison of choice, looking over the pub's other offerings with a somewhat dubious expression. "What sort of cargo was it?" she wonders. "On second thought," she adds quickly, "Perhaps that is more than I need to know."

When Solomon asks her for her story, she reaches up to idly twirl a lock of coppery hair about her finger. "Not from around here, no," she murmurs. Her accent lends credence to her claim; there is an aristocratic inflection to her words that is particularly uncommon on Haven, and even more so in a dock-side pub. "Tell me about your ship, Captain? The... you called it the 'Crimson Claw' if I recall correctly?" she asks, aiming curious, emerald green eyes up at him.