[Deva is a capable liar actress, but there is no faking the way relief washes over her at his admission that he is a shapeshifter, that he isn't human. That immediately feels safer, and some of the tense line to her shoulders eases. She smiles at him, at the concern, a small and tentative flicker of gratitude. Whoever this man is, he's making a good impression.]

I am too. A selkie. But I can't change. I have my pelt, but I'm trapped in this shape.

[This was as much her form as her seal shape, but missing one of the two felt like something had been carved out of her. It was a theft, a violation.]

So I work for them to earn the privilege of reclaiming what they stole from me.

[She's angry, clearly, though given that her magic also seems to have been stripped away, it's an impotent anger. Once upon a time she would have been more sympathetic to the plight of this place, but she's a wounded thing, and those wounds have done damage to the mercy in her.]