Stavanger Bay as i climb into the skies

“Me, Captain…”
 
The pallid young man reeled his head back, as though she had struck him across the face. His eyes widened, and his jaw unhinged to gape at the brash woman. Her confidence was enough to rival his own, but she had the years and experience for it to be well-placed. As sure of himself as he was, Smokestep could not have helped that he needed to take a step back from her. Instinct told him that he had been pinned verbally, and the way she had spoken to him before did not suggest that she would allow him to slip very far if they were to battle it out. The young Captain was intelligent enough to know when he was fighting an uphill battle.
 
“That’s… a big assumption, lass,” he growled finally, cocking a single brow over a crimson optic. Steadying himself against the oncoming storm, the corsair drew his crown upward and frowned thoughtfully at the woman. This was a feigned expression, because she had been right. Of course, Smokestep wanted her; she was stunning and mystical in ways he had never experienced. Pride was a difficult hurdle to overcome, however.