Every...round?  She spends a moment interrogating her recently-acquired knowledge of the language - 'round' is approximately equivalent to 'planet' but it's not quite the same thing...ah.  A curse upon all Keleni, present company excepted.  "We might be a bit further away than we'd hoped, then.  Would you mind telling me about Catchbird?"

"Well, we're Cyclic Animists around here, good soil for yams, and obviously you were made with the language - are your friends older than you or just from even farther off -"

Excuse me.  'Made' with the language?!  "Oh, they're from a ways off.  They're Keleni, of course - they don't speak the language, sadly.  I'll fill them in later, we can make a plan for getting home."  She's finding herself incredibly tempted to do a little mental poking around to figure out what the fuck it means to be 'made' with a language.  Is this some cloning setup???

Yes, "made", same word you'd use to describe making dinner or a shirt or a friendship or a discovery, it's a really generic word. There's more specific words for making people but this gardener didn't use one.

"I don't speak Keleni so it must be really far out! You must have stopped off somewhere for food even if you didn't stay, which direction did you come in from?"

"Well, that's the rub.  We're pretty lost.  Absolutely no idea where we are or the route we came by.  Is there a town nearby, we could see about getting a place to stay, and a hot meal?"

Jera is looking pretty alarmed about these developments!  In his case, 'alarmed' means a worried expression and dimmed bioluminescence.

"- you don't know where you stopped at? How did you resupply there without finding that out?"

"Have you got any money? We don't have enough in the pot for extra people without getting out some things that we were saving, but we can do that, only we'll want to replace them," pipes up the other, quieter gardener.

"I don't think you take our currency, unfortunately.  But Jera here is the greatest healer I have ever seen with my own eyes.  If he can't take care of whatever ails you, you had no hope from the start.  If you know of anyone who'd rather not be injured anymore, I'm sure we could arrange a trade in kind."  She squeezes his hand, looking rather fond of him.

"We're holding up all right, but there's a fellow with a broken hip, down the lane with the blue house? I don't see what you could possibly do about it, though."

Of course, they don't know.  Hell, most people in the Empire don't realize psychic powers exist.  Hm.  This could be leverage..  "He'll be walking around in a few days."  She peeks around, looking for the blue house...

Jera's already on it.  He shakes his head at Carol.   Finally, something straightforward and not even a little morally ambiguous.  Just a broken hip that won't be broken much longer.

"Thank you, Jera."  Then, to the gardeners.  "I'd hate to leave the fellow in pain longer than we need to."  It would be a waste, after all.  "Would you mind pointing me to where he lives?"

"Uh, he lives that way, but I really don't see what you could have in mind here."

He can see what she has in mind, and rolls his eyes.  Lets go of Carol's hand.

"I'll show you."  She rummages through her kit and pulls out a small utility knife, and nicks a fingertip.  "See how I'm bleeding?  It's not a trick or a ruse?"

"...I have no idea if it's a trick, you're from so far away I don't even speak your friends' language, how should I know what kinds of tricks you might have?"

She does laugh at that, loud and bright.  She's got me there.  "Well, I give you my word that I genuinely did cut myself."  She reaches out to touch Jera - 

- and the layers of skin weave themselves together.  He's a little annoyed about the waste - it gets harder and harder to force someone's body back together, the more times you do it without giving yourself a break.  It's common knowledge, and Carol's spending a finite resource on a party trick of all things.

"It's a pretty good trick if it is one," allows the talkative one of the gardeners.

"You don't have to take my word on it.  Ask your neighbor next time you see him.  And what's his name, by the way?  Oh, and I misplaced my manners - I'm Carol.  These are Jera and Tora."  

He's really not thrilled about being introduced by his informal name and not his formal name and clan name, but it's not like he's in any position to argue about it.  What with the thing where he doesn't speak the language.

"I'm Pev and that's Nemba."

"Good to meet you both."  She would normally shake hands, but that's not a custom in every section of the galaxy, let alone wherever-the-fuck-we-are-now.  "And your injured neighbor's name?"

"Cherng. Where did your sail put in, exactly?"

"Absolutely no idea.  I almost wonder if we were drugged."  She shrugs lightly.