The quirky water dryad played easily along with the anthropomorphism of the boat, and Arven looked down at it again, as if man and boat were exchanging meaningful glances. "Oh so she's a rental. Or...

Arven returned his jungle-green eyes to Porphyria Dempsey, narrowed, jokingly very suspicious. "Or... purloined from some poor old fisherman, searching high and low for his faithful boat even as we speak."