Virva

The half-elf turns and gives Aphael a piercing look, her eyes like the strange color of the sky before the storm. She heard him full well, but obviously doesn't think highly of his assessment. Yet, despite this, she remains silent, just letting him know exactly what she thinks via her silent and disturbing stare. Her hand has dropped away from the little earring that marks her acceptance into the arcane order, and instead rests easy at her side.

After letting her gaze linger and uncomfortable amount of time on Aphael, Virva turns her eyes back to the ship and the sea, wondering how long she'd have to prolong the enchantments that kept her able to breathe out of water. She may be used to living on land for extended periods, but at the same time, it was always a hassle to make it work. Without her spells, it would become even more difficult. She'd been practicing- trying to build on the nature given to her by her father, but she figured that breathing without spells was still a very long ways off. At least her spell lasted all day... and then some.

Finally, she turns back towards Aphael and looks him over, her storm green eyes judging and cool. She lets the silence linger just for a moment more, then speaks in a voice that matches her expression.
"What is your name?"
It almost seems more of a command than a question. Granted, she didn't have much respect for the Aventi at this point.