Nakreyya still wasn't sure where in the Gods' Great Names she was. She had arrived to this planet some several days ago through the nightmares of a sentient beast living in the wild. She'd made her way through a forest before finding a creek of fresh water that would do for her camp. 

Some basic reconnaissance let her know that she was somewhat near to a township, and she was very close to a route commonly used by travelers. For the first few days she had camped further from the trail, but today she moved closer, setting up her tent, chair, and table. She arranged for her horse, Anzu, to have a place by the creek so he could drink if he needed - though she didn't need to tie him up. He seemed content to stay at her side of his own free will. 

She had laid some basic hunting traps, one bearing fruit in the shape of a deer like creature similar to the ones she knew from back home. She had carved and blooded the beast, throwing the legs to Anzu uncooked, and setting the rest over a spit for herself. The spit was rigged to use the current of the creek to turn the rod, evenly cooking the beast over a long, low fire. 

She would hunt a few more days before heading into town. She wanted to have local fauna to sell for whatever the local coinage was. 

Once her tasks were complete, she bathed herself in the clean stream, and brushed her hair before sitting herself at her table to work. She was working on a handful of small mechanical birds to sell to the local town's children. Their reactions to the birds, and to her, would tell her much of what she needed to know. Two of the last places she'd visited were hostile toward elves, and a third had people who tried to burn her for using magic. 

She sat at her table, her long ears attuned to any noises around her, and tinkered with the little wind up birds. They used no magic, and were easy enough to make. Working on them calmed her when she came to a new place. 

She still wore her leather armor and daggers, as it was prudent to do so, but her hair was down and loose, softening her usually severe appearance. She also flipped the eyepatch over her right eye up and out of the way. The patch helped her depth perception, but was obnoxious when it came to fine detailed work. Any passerby folk would be able to see that her right eye had seemingly been carved out, and was replaced with a glass eye that was currently glowing with a faint violet mist.