Stavanger Bay as i climb into the skies

The woman answered him, and though he was wildly smitten with her, the vagueness to her response had left him lacking. His mismatched gaze roamed her features, bemused at the circumstances he found himself in. She had provided him with just enough information that his further pursuit of it could have been considered rude or pushy. Smokestep felt as though he was entitled to more than a lackadaisical quip that resulted in nothing more than another stranger to occupy his ranks. Frustration bubbling inside of him for a moment before he found himself taken off guard by her closing remark. The words settling in to him and he furrowed his brow, recoiling just enough to show his offense. It was likely that she was entirely correct in her assumption, but the young Captain did not want to believe that she could know his desires so well after only a fleeting conversation.
 
“An’ wot is it ye think I want from ye, miss?” the pirate asked her with a cocked brow. The dark tip of his nose had been lifted upward skeptically. Smokestep stood with rigid limbs and a feigned expression of polite interest in her message. He held his façade with all of his strength and waited to see what answer he would procure with such a direct query.