After having narrowly avoided some of the other crew members, especially one particularly meaty Crab lady, Shiba Nozomi nimbly makes her way up to the crow's nest. The rough wood under her fingers was a welcome sensation, as was the sharp scent of sea salt. Up here... it was such a different perspective. Sitting gingerly at the edge of the platform, she removes her sandals so she can dangle her feet off the edge without worry of accidentally pegging someone far below.

A gentle tug removes the simple clasp from her hair, allowing the sea winds to tug it however it wished. Her small frame takes a deep, even breath, eyes half closing. With nobody here to be concerned with, her mind begins to wander.

Swab the deck. Check the ropes. Retie those knots. Strip the Skuthers of the port poop deck. She'd strip their skuthers. Never had someone shouted at her as often in a day as she'd been shouted at in the last two days, but at least these shouts hadn't included the switch as well. Now she was checking the rigging on the mainsail.

Odd. Was that the one who was on duty today for standing in the middle of nowhere and watching the birds fly by? Now, that was a quiet job, but also one quite a ways off of the ground and considerably less close to the nice and pleasant water far below. She'd take the shouts, thank you very much, the peasant figured. However, as she worked and checked the ropes and rigging far up the mainsail, she would also be readily visible to the Shiba, even if there would be no bowing. Twenty feet off of the ground and clutching to ropes made for bad bowing and saluting, that it did.

In the Crow's Nest, the shouts and calls of the crew below became rather faint, and most of what get filtered upwards to her ears was washed away by the sound of the wind going by.

The noises changed a bit, heralding the approach of the heimin girl. Nozomi sits up and glances to her, noting with a little surprise how young the girl seemed, despite all the scars. In fact... and she was no good at being precise, but she'd guess they might be of an age. The fact the other girl was heimin, and not vastly her superior in age made it far easier to speak up. Scars Nozomi could easily ignore.

Her soft voice carries over the sounds of the wind and the seabirds. "Kon- Konnichiwa."

Amaya blinked and gripped the rope with a bit of a tug. Had she just been addressed? She glanced down, looking for the sea hag. No, the harpy was busy shouting at someone to tighten the jib, or somesuch nonsense. She was the only one that the peasant expected could actually shout this far up, which meant that the girl in the crows nest was talking to her. Hopefully she was also tied off and moored in properly too.

"Afternoon O-s...samurai-sama?" she said, not so much sounding nervous as she did it in her rough way as she did sound like someone muscling with the ropes somewhat.

This place was going to take some getting used to. Samurai did not normally speak to her.

Leaning out a bit more, Nozomi watches the heimin from behind her bangs. "Shiba. I'm a Shiba." Finally, someone else who didn't seem to smile all the time. Or talk really really terrifying loudly.

She grunted a little and fussed with the ropes, making sure the knot was steady before glancing up towards the crow's nest. The rigging looked secure for the moment and so she moved over and scrambled up with as much grace as she could, tying herself off on the other side of the nest to watch the backwards motion of the ship.

"Apoligies O-Shiba-san," she said gruffly, popping her neck. "Hard to answer questions on the ropes. Don't want to mistie something." What is with those eyes of yours? Can you even see where we're going?

"Oh. If I'm interrupting, feel free to tell me so." Mumbling a bit she adds, "And it's just Shiba. Shiba Nozomi. No O-anything..."

Nozomi's gaze is rather shyly curious. "Are... you on the surgical team that Isawa O-Washi-sama mentioned?"

Surgery?!? Blech!

She shuddered at the thought and shook her head. "If Shiba-sama prefers it, that's what it'll be," she said to the first before coughing and dealing with the latter. "And no, that's a couple of the others. I just got arrived for my assignment yesterday. They haven't put me on the duty roster yet. I've got a minute before they need me back to make sure the rigging stays tacked, but I can't say I know the first thing about cutting folks, Shiba-sama."

At least not that kind of cutting.

Ooookay. Obviously *not* one of the surgical eta that was mentioned. Good to know.

"So you're usually charged with keeping the sails in shape, then? Or..." While most duties aboard the boat were typically assigned to whomever was available, knowing who had a talent for what was something Nozomi tried to stay on top of. No point in being useless until somebody needed patching up.

"I'm u-usually running the m-medbay... if... eto... you need anything, l-let me know?" From the looks of it, this girl wasn't in the habit of asking for a healer's help. Even if it might have been because none were available. On closer glance, Nozomi was pretty sure some of the scars could have been easily avoided with adequate care...

Some, perhaps, but not all. The puffy, ugly looking one along her face hadn't looked like it was caused by a blade, though the scarring at her throat might have been lessened with quick care. Of course, heimin rarely received that sort of care. "Well, watching the rigging's just a normal sailor's job, but yes. I do have skill in tailoring, and in the tending of cloth Shiba-sama," she said, nodding a bit. "However, I won't presume to know my duties until they are posted in the duty roster. For now, I'm a conscript."

A sidelong glance at the other woman precedes the next quiet inquiry. "You... ah... don't happen to p-play any instruments, do you?"

The finger that was tracing a small circle atop the wood plank might have been considered dainty if it hadn't been so tanned.

"No, afraid not, Shiba-sama," she said, shaking her head at that one. She'd never had the time or money for that sort of thing. It had been a thought, but that's what the players at feastday were for. She simply had to enjoy their skills instead. "Most of my life's spent in my trade, if you will."

She looked down and swallowed, making a note to hopefully avoid this place as a duty. The waters were one thing, but she'd rather avoid the rigging if it was all the same, and the crows nest was definitely a bit much for her tastes.

Disappointment flickers over her diminutive features. "Mine, too, I guess. Our last s-ship had a flute pl-player..."

An odd look comes over her face. "He wasn't v-very good."

She frowned slightly and nodded at that. "Perhaps one of the others is better? I remember seeing one of my lords around here, and they're usually good with such things," she volunteered, hoping to keep the other woman from being upset. Nervous and shy around a peasant was odd enough as it stood. She didn't want to risk actually getting this one riled at all.

"Oh? Are you in serv.." Squinching up her face, she manages to avoid stuttering at all. "In service. To someone specific?"

This really should be getting easier at some point...

"I am from Crane lands, Shiba-sama. Until I was conscripted by the Imperial Navy, I was a servant to their clan. I am sorry for being unclear," she said. There was nothing particularly demure about the way she talked. It was like gravel grating through a rocky road. "I only know that they have many good performers in their number."

"It must've been a treat, seeing Crane performers."

Turning to face the ocean, her gaze lingers upon some distant spot of blue-green. "Some came to Shiro Shiba at the same time I was there..."

The words are all spoken somewhat slowly and intentionally, but to her credit, there wasn't a stutter or stammer among them

"Mother always said it was. I have not personally seen them. I know them more by word of mouth," Amaya replied, almost shrugging but managing to refrain from it. "Few came to the village, and their purposes were their own." It was wise not to meddle in the affairs of one's betters.

"Un." It was just sort of an affirmative noise, the kind one makes when they're listening but don't have anything in particular to say in response. She really didn't, but she kind of wished she did.

"Er... what's you're name?" Peasant-chan really wasn't going to work for Nozomi.

"I am called Amaya, Shiba-sama," she said, seeming unconcerned. She was accustomed to peasant-chan, but at the same time there were some samurai who felt a need to know the particular name of someone they were dealing with. At this point, she rather assumed that the latter would be common here, simply because of the cramped quarters.