[@t2wave][@Crossfire]

The station was a wondrous place by Kaeci's standards; establishments where others could cook for you or even provide human garments assuming your commission held the right weight, it certainly put into perspective the point of what his job had become. Cutlery was a foreign concept, though it didn't seem to be as much of an issue in said establishments than back on the ship. Kaeci supposed that paying for food implied you were to eat as you please. Truly confounding.

The other favored aspect of the station was shown as he arrived a few steps behind Harriet, fiddling with a black and white plaid scarf and having the decency to give footwear a chance in the way of boots along with black over-knee socks.
At first, it hadn't even seemed like he was even aware of his surroundings until a small notion teased the back of Harriet's mind. Like her own thoughts paired with a second small voice, Kaeci sharing his thoughts, [color=2e3192][i]"Humans. The captain and the mentioned...Scarf..."[/i][/color]
A mild craving faded with the presence of thought, something akin to anger but cold and impersonal. Meanwhile, Kaeci's pupils rounded after having grown sharp in the proximity to perceived prey before quickly suppressing such unbecoming urges. This was certainly not the time or place for such behavior, and especially not for Harriet to bear witness to. T'would be [i]quite[/i] rude, indeed.

[color=8882be]"Ah. Iz seemink so"[/color] Kaeci softly and optimistically chirped, eyes shifting between Stryker and Carver  over the edge of the scarf he'd pulled up over his nose while reasoning out the best way to go about wearing it.