The words about 'his kind' raise her curiosity, but she elects not to pry. Surely he's not bothered by it, if he talks about it so freely, but has no burning need to know, and sees no point in it besides. He's some manner of creature beyond human, to not only tolerate but revel in these climes, and so long as he offers her no harm she'll ask him nothing more intrusive than she needs.

"By way of England, aye." And if she appreciates the look of him while he hunts around for his clothes, well. She's always had an appreciation for the male form. The shamelessness makes it all the more attractive, confidence that lacks arrogance has always been a pleasant thing in her mind, and rare among the men she calls comrade.

"I don't suppose you know Nassau? On the isle of New Providence?"