The pat on the shoulder is a slightly clumsy offering that catches her off-guard, but the fact that Maine tried at all is appreciated. She shoots him a grateful smile, and then winds up echoing Wash with a little laugh: "Pragmatic in the face of potential death. That's one way of putting it."

It's not mocking; her voice is warm when she adds, "You just remind me of someone back home." She still remembers her teen years when some of the Overwatch agents came round for dinner, or her poring through pictures of the organisation in their youth. Wash reminds her a bit of a weary version of a young Commander Morrison, blond and blue-eyed and square-jawed.

Then she glances around. A few more villagers are starting to drift in, following the general call for people to gather in the inn. Some have been familiar faces, but not any that she knows especially well. It's odd to realise, but she's probably best-situated right where she is.

"Okay. So! I'll see if I can talk to Foggy about butchery later, and in the meantime -- want to start that watch shift?" She highly suspected no one else had gotten on that particular task yet. "No time like the present."