Alexa had thought it comforting to see the arrowheads and sheaves of hair on the altars of the ship's temple. No matter how unfit her offering, how burnt the food, someone was on top of the fitting appeasements.

Hastily, she withdraws a hand from a shirt--whose, she's not quite sure, she's quite lost track--and offers an apologetic smile. She doesn't want to step away--certainly not now, just when things are getting interesting. But ignoring a goddess is... well, let's be honest, right now it's [i]super tempting.[/i] She self consciously brushes herself down, pats her clothes back to some semblance of decency, and bows her head. Short term tempting, yes, but still not a good idea.

"How may we serve the Mistress of the Hunt?"