"Mmmmm... Mothberry Grove," Jalika itnoned quietly.  Her eyes left the man for now, and continued her task.  She was picking the empty husks of spidermoth cocoons from the wildly overgrown berry trees.  When she looked back up to see the man's perplexed expression, she expounded, in her accustomed halting slur, "Not a Nomad.  Now I'm Jalika of the Mothberry Grove.  What does the Lotus want with me?"  She continued picking.  Every once in a while, she would take a sip from a bottle, facing away from the man, but still very calculatedly within his view.