I'm Rosethorn. [She leaves off rank and temple affiliation, since she hasn't yet met anyone to whom they mean anything.]

What are cats doing in the garden? I hope the ship never develops a real mouse problem, though I can't see how it would. These cats won't do anyone much good as mousers. They're scarcely the size of mice themselves. [Speaking of which, here come a few of them now, climbing overtop of Rosethorn's feet, perching on her toes, and in general playing around her like catnip-riddled felines. Clearly she hasn't had any trouble winning their affections.

As for eating unidentified plants, Rosethorn just answers with a dry:] No, I wouldn't either.