Dean has been rounding the edges of the deck, taking everything in. It helps to know where things are in case hell breaks loose--where not to jump, what might trip him up or knock him out if there's trouble. It's a reconnaissance mission, but it's also a chance to try to get his sea legs under him. He hasn't really done this before. He wants to adjust, make sure he doesn't embarrass himself later.

And at least, thank God, it's not a plane.

He heads down one side, fingertips occasionally reaching out to touch the rail for a slight boost of balance--he's doing this less and less now, he's a bit proud--when he spies a woman in his path.

"Hi," he calls out as he approaches, both because it's the nice thing to do and to warn her of his presence, just in case. She seems to be a bit occupied eyeing the nearby ships and he doesn't want to startle anyone.