She does.

Johanna spared a glance around to Grosh and the other Chosen before following Elder Vissnar down. None of the others seemed to be following along, something the captain was thankful for, since she’d rather not draw any more attention than she had to.

There was a surprisingly well-crafted set of stone stairs descending down from the trapdoor, and as she descended, Johanna found herself struggling to see as the light dwindled. By the time she reached the bottom, she could only make out the faint outline of a round chamber, about as large as the hut above, with a few tunnels leading out.

“Hello?” Johanna called out, surprised at how helpless she sounded, “Are you here?” She stumbled over a bit of uneven ground, and was starting to get a sinking feeling in her stomach when a torch flared to life, illuminating the room, and casting a long shadow behind Vissnar.

“Ah, yes, I forgot, you humans require more light than we do.” Vissnar hung the torch on a wall and approached, his smile showing that the sharp, pointed teeth Johanna had noticed on Grosh seemed to be common among the Chosen. Her eyes adjusted quickly now that the room was well lit. The belowground was much more furnished than above, and she noted a bed of sorts, a wooden table with a chair, a couple storage boxes, and, indeed, a number of hallways leading out of the room.

Vissnar handed Johanna a wooden cup, filled with a clear liquid, then walked over to the table. She sniffed the liquid experimentally, found nothing unusual, and drank. It seemed to be simple water, lightly flavored with berries. She was, in fact, rather thirsty, and finished the cup, before placing it on the table beside some papers that Vissnar was shuffling through.

“Thank you. You mentioned that you haven’t seen humans in a long time, is your, uh, group the only one on the island?” Johanna tried to read some of the papers over his shoulder, but the script they were written in was foreign to her, though she thought she spotted a map, which would probably prove useful even if she couldn’t fully read it.

Vissnar eventually found the paper he was looking for and turned to Johanna. “The Chosen are the only people living here on Mother, yes. Occasionally we have a human visitor, but it’s a rare occurrence.” Paper in hand, he walked to one of the storage boxes, checked the paper again, then reached into the box and produced a bundle of what looked like furs and woven grass, which he handed to Johanna.

“Lighter clothing. We Chosen don’t have much need for clothing, but if you insist on wearing clothing, I would suggest these over your current rags. The days are warm, here, and there are better ways to stay warm during the night storms than the heavy clothes you’re currently wearing.”

Johanna unfolded the bundle, finding it to be a grass skirt, a fur top that was little more than a cloth and a few strings, and a small thong to wear under the skirt. It was certainly clothing more fit to the environment, but it was also extremely scant. Clothing more fit for a dancer than a captain. Still, even in a grass skirt and a fur top, she’d be overdressed compared to the Chosen.