Kiris had gotten into a bit of everything since she stepped aboard the flotilla in Gem, pleasant enough about lending a hand to chores and tasks to earn her keep. Even so, she ate her own food and always away from everyone but Shari, the lean panther that had been her second shadow since... well, Gem too, actually. Evenings were the best, in her opinion, as that's when people really had free time to talk and boast. Kiris was no bard and her singing voice likely only appreciated by Shari, but she'd shared some of her stories and songs in exchange for the same of her new friends -- just as she'd done in almost every inn or tavern or town center for years.

She was a stranger in strange lands, and she revelled in it.

There were other strangers around, too. She was firmly of the mindset that you didn't lash together a bunch of twigs and kindling and set out across the unruly tides for nothing, and Kiris felt some true kinship with their madness if nothing else. It wasn't quite enough to keep her from feeling stir-crazy, nor to blunt how eager she felt to put her feet on proper ground... but the promise of a day of no work, all play? Shari would probably prefer to stay hidden in the quieter areas, and of course Kiris would check on her regularly -- but one of the best parts about wandering was getting to participate in all sorts of crazy festivities.

Kiris rolled from her hammock and onto her feet, then rose with a stretch and a pleasant 'mrowl' of a sound that rose at the end like a question. Shari, mostly hidden in the den of an overturned cot, answered with a yawned purr before she went back to sleep. The traveller gathered her things and set out from the bunk-house she shared with a few other women also travelling on their own, her ears perked and her tail curled as if a question. Often she sang along, and though she was quite game to try the offered foods and drinks most, she found, were almost entirely unpalatable. A few were at least edible, but one drink of fermented milk and herbs was so surprisingly reminiscent of tresh that she'd nearly wept. Instead, she stepped up onto a table and raised her cup. "Acar treshi!"