Stavanger Bay towers and shadows

@Raptor maybe? <3

It had bothered him until the brute had lost hours of sleep thinking about his previous conversation with his sable friend. Raptor had never been anything but good to Smokestep, and his cockiness and brash attitude had somehow hurt his best mate in a way that had driven the corsair further from their pack. It had seemed as though the pirate had made several poor decisions regarding those he cared for. He missed the wild companionship of his mate, and he could smell that spring had fallen on their beach. Before long, he knew that they would be searching for berries and fruit to create fresh rum for the crew. The Captain was nothing without his best rum-maker, and he had fought himself in admitting such a thing.
 
Trekking across the sand, Smokestep searched their small caves for signs of Raptor, but he could not catch a scent of the sable pirate. Worried, the brute lifted his head and called for the Quartermaster, hoping that his mate would heed his call and that they could sort what had occurred the last time they’d spoken to each other.

Set sometime after all the other stuff.

He had made himself a recluse. Unable to face the crew he was meant to look after and ashamed to meet his Captain. But when the summons went up, Raptor knew the time had come and he did not fight it. He dragged himself to his feet and, head hanging, started a slow walk to what he believed was his end; what he needed to be his end.

The sable wolf said nothing as he quietly presented himself before his leader, bedraggled and torn, the wounds on his body as apparent as the wounds on his spirit. His empty gaze fixed into the sand at the Captain's paws as he skimmed back his ears and waited for Smokestep to speak.

It felt almost as though Raptor had appeared right before him. Smokestep watched the sable corsair approach and felt his stomach sink further within him. He thought he ought to have been carrying stones in the pit of his gut for it to feel such a way. It was in the few moments that it took for Raptor to arrive where Smokestep felt most aware of how he was standing and behaving. His feet shuffled for a moment in the sand and when his Quartermaster finally closed the space between them, he did not say a word but locked his eyes with the sand at Smokestep’s paws. The silent resolve that passed over his friend was enough to cause the Captain’s heart to clench tightly within his chest. He breathed deep and then shook his head back and forth.
 
“Rap, mate… I’m awful sorry ‘bout wot I said to ye last,” he started with a near sheepish expression. It was difficult for the proud young Captain to admit that he had done something wrong, but he was hell-bent on fixing what he had done to the pirate who stood before him. After all, the young Cairn believed they were already kin. “Piper would be lucky to have a mate like ye. Ye didn’t deserve wot I said, right, an’ I’ll give ye one free hit wit no fight back ‘cause I know yer doin’ yer best and I need ye here, mate… I need ye to help me run the crew.” He then straightened himself and waited to see if Raptor would take him up on the offer. It was only then that he noticed the marks on the other male’s body. His brows furrowed tightly over his gaze and he gaped daftly before Raptor.
 
“Wot the fuck? Ye fightin’ sharks? Who the fuck did this to ye? I’ll kill ‘em,” he snapped.  

Smoke spoke, and Raptor cringed like a dog expecting a lash from a hand raised overhead, shrinking into himself as he clenched his teeth. But the words that came were not the ones he expected, and no teeth buried themselves into his snout. The sable wolf opened one eye and peered up at his Captain with disbelief and suspicion.

"Ye are?" He questioned quietly, hesitant to believe but unfurling himself tentatively nonetheless. Raptor chewed at his lip as Smoke spoke further. He found his Captain's words genuine, and truthfully, had never known Smokestep to be as sly as the last Captain he served under. He was unable, however, to form a reply, opening his mouth several times only to close it again and search both his companion's face and paws in vain.

The subject changed. Raptor pressed his lips together, sucked in a breath through his nose, and laid it all on the table. "I tried to kill that wolf who I thought was yer sister," he stated, casting his gaze aside and bitterly focusing on the horizon. "I wanted to prove myself to ye, and to Piper, and to the crew, and to myself. Raptor turned his burnt umber eyes to his friend's for a moment. "I didn't though. I ended up screwin' her instead."

Raptor licked his lips. "Ye wanna know why, Smoke? Why I did that?"

“Aye… wouldn’t have tried to find ye to apologize if I wasn’t,” he stated to the first question.
 
It was then that the conversation seemed to unfurl. Raptor released what he had inside of him and were it not for his place within the pack, Smokestep would have recoiled at the sharp edge in his friend’s word. The pale young Captain was not sure what he was supposed to say when confronted with such a situation. His eyes roamed over the marks on Raptor’s body with a sincere concern. The Quartermaster was mad, but the Cairn boy could not have blamed him for feeling that way. Surely, his pride would have caused him to bubble if he had been on the opposite end of their conversation, but he was fortunate in that he sat where he did. It was more than he knew how to handle with his limited years of experience, and even Raptor should have known that Smokestep was just as new to the game of leading a crew as he was.
 
A heavy sigh fell from the marauder’s lips. “Cause ye like her? Cause.. cause I made a fool o’ meself an’ sent ye off into the wilds to fuck a crazy woman…” he trailed, trying desperately to fill in the blank of the question that had been left behind. His eyes grew fretful and he searched the face of his Quartermaster with concern and fear, wondering if this meant the end of his friendship – the end of his valiant companion in the ranks of his crew – and it clutched at his heart with an iron fist. Maybe – just maybe – it was because he was not the great Captain that he had aspired to be. Perhaps Raptor had wandered off and forced himself into a difficult situation because Smokestep had treated him in ways no friend should ever have been treated.
 
“Rap… I don’t always know wot I’m doin’, an’ I’m as hot headed as the next fella, but yer a good mate and ye didn’t deserve it. Just can’t figure out how to make it up to ye.”

Raptor shook his head as Smokestep — in a move his sable companion could not have predicted — twisted the blame onto himself. The more the pale Captain spoke the more Raptor swung his muzzle in a gesture of no. The blame lied squarely on his shoulders, and his alone. He had failed himself and everyone that had ever been gathered around him.

"Naw," he answered, almost too casually. He had resigned. "I did it because I screw everything." Raptor drew a slow and steady breath. There was more to cover yet. More to say before he accepted whatever was coming for him. Still convinced was he, that there would be no day after today. "I don't deserve nothin'. I ain't even a real pirate. I was captured as a whelp, aye, spared because the Captain found me funny. 'Look at his little fangs! Look at his little fangs! Har har har! Look how he cowers!'" Raptor slid his long tongue — also an oddity — across the exposed tips of his canines.

He couldn't face Smoke anymore and once again looked away, hanging his sorry head below his shoulders as he drew another breath. "I'm a good thief, ye know? I had to be. I'd have starved if I wasn't. I tried to be one of them... I learned to make real good rum because rum made them all so happy. I thought they took a likin' to me and wanted to make me a real crew member... and maybe they would have eventually, but they asked me to kill a little girl when we went raidin' one night and I couldn't. They kicked my tail and marooned me, told me they'd watch me starve to death or watch me strike for the other shore and get picked off by a shark or drown."

Heh. The most fleeting of smirks flitted across his lips. He might have rolled onto the far shore gasping for breath and near dead but he had never felt more alive or triumphant in that moment. "I met you not long after. Tellin' ye a bunch of tall tales about what a fearless pirate I am... but I ain't nothin'. I proved that. I still can't kill. I care about more than just the crew. I know I ain't supposed to give a hoot about nothin' outside this ship, but I felt real bad about disappointing that silver female. I..." He trailed off with a heavy breath, lost for any more words but this:

"I just want to eat, and get drunk, and have a bit o' fun, and... and I don't want to be alone."

“Yer a fearless pirate to me, Raptor…”
 
The truth was a wicked thing and it cut like a dagger. Still, Smokestep could not fault his best mate for sharing what he could. The young Captain was just that – young – and he lacked many of the skills a great leader might possess. He led with his heart over his mind and allowed for the wildest parts of his emotions to make decisions for him. It was obvious that he was still full of his youth. He had already made a slew of mistakes in leading his crew, but he’d done them with such confidence that he wasn’t entirely sure the others would hold him accountable for it. Smokestep couldn’t judge Raptor for the past that he had led, because he hadn’t been risen on pirate roots himself.
 
A heavy sigh passed between his lips, and the pallid yearling shook his head sadly. “Ye know, I ain’t a full-blooded pirate meself. Me father’s a raging loon wit an ego the size o’ the ocean is all, an’ he sent me ‘n Piper back here to re-make his pack. O’ course I did no such thing,” Smokestep admitted to the sable pirate. His two-toned gaze roamed to the face of his friend and he shrugged his shoulders as though he were disappointed in himself.
 
“I met this crew, see – the Fenriver crew – an they was led by their Captain. They loved ‘im; ye ask any o’ those sea dogs an’ they’d swear up n’ down that they’d die fer their Captain. I wanted that life, aye? I followed ‘em around fer months to learn how to be the best pirate there was an’ I can’t even say I’ve done that right.”
 
Smokestep gritted his teeth as the shame crept into his chest and sat there, weighted. It was difficult for him to admit that he was wrong, but he had never told a soul about his past and how he had come to adopt the life of a pirate. Sandpiper had kept her mouth shut, but he imagined she didn’t knock him down because they were as close to family as they would ever get. It didn’t help him to know that his sister was the only person holding his secrets, or that Raptor had found him and spilled his heart. Smokestep had wanted to be as ruthless as his father, but he had grown to only despise the dark leviathan who had ruled the bay before him. Were it not for Skellige, the young boy believed he could have had any life he’d wanted.
 
Another sigh passed between his lips. “I ain’t about to fault ye fer wot ye’ve told me, mate. This girl… do ye have feelins fer her? Do ye want a family here? I’d be alright wit a lil Raptor runnin’ about.”

Raptor tipped his snout up and peered at Smokestep from beneath his brow as the pale Captain told his tale. His expression softened in disbelief as he listened, and he could not keep his tail from weakly wagging in the sand as the tiniest sliver of hope dared to work its way into his broken soul. It was fleeting though. Raptor was still burdened by uncertainty about his future, and doubt about himself and his place in the crew.

"I only ever wanted a family," he murmured, casting his eyes downward again and letting his ears and his shoulders droop. It was not that the sable wolf yearned in particular for a mate and pups, but rather for a sense of belonging; to care and to be cared for. It was that desperate want that had driven him to try to make himself a pirate.

"But I don't... I don't even really know her," he followed up. "I don't even know her name. I just feel bad for how I treated her... and if she's going to have my pups... I don't want her to try to raise them alone. I want to fix this."

Raptor bit his lip and brought his gaze back to Smokestep. His expression was stony and serious, even as his next words carried a tinge of dark humor. "I thought you'd just kill me for tellin' you this stuff. You could've saved me a lot of trouble if you did."

Because now, now he had to face the coming days.

Smokestep furrowed his brow into a tight line over his eyes. He latched onto Raptor with his stare, trying to comprehend what it was that the sable pirate was searching for. “Ye have a family… an’ I ain’t seein’ fit to kill ye unless ye run off an abandon yer crew,” he stated plainly to the dark-coated man. It had been his own fault for opening that door – for asking his Quartermaster a foolish question – and he wasn’t entirely ready to own up to the fact that most of his life was falling apart via his close relationships. Smokestep had only meant that, while Raptor did not yet have a mate within their ranks, it wasn’t as though he didn’t have family in himself and Sandpiper.
 
There was a heavy sigh that passed between his lips. The young Captain turned his attention away from his mate, deep in his own thoughts and troubles. “We can’t afford to lose ye. Whether yer crusty arse realizes it er not, yer an important part o’ this here crew. But, I’ll say ye can bring yer lass here if ye can convince ‘er,” he offered with a small shrug. Their first meeting had not gone entirely well, but Smokestep was ever the optimist. He had a feeling that if his best mate wanted to build a family with someone, Raptor would find a way to do that with a good girl.  

He afforded Smokestep the smallest of smiles. It twitched along his lips, and then tucked behind a distant expression as uncertainty squeezed him. It was perhaps a different uncertainty than it had been. There was a glimmer of hope for his future, and yet, he could hardly see it through the darkness that he imagined before him.

His emotions were confused, and his mind was fatigued. He looked at his Captain at length, and tried to will some meaningful words to form on his tongue, but there were none. He shook his head. "She doesn't want a thing to do with me," he informed. "And I don't blame her a bit... but I should try to find her. Try to... try to do the right thing." Raptor swallowed.

"Thanks, Smoke," he murmured, and then he tipped his snout downward and excused himself.

It was difficult for Smokestep to hear that there was someone out there who potentially wanted nothing to do with his best mate. His brow furrowed tightly over his two-toned gaze, and the young Captain frowned deeply in response to the first remark that had been made. Of course, when Raptor had first brought the woman to their territory, she hadn’t behaved very well and hadn’t seemed at all interested in anything beyond what was associated with her and her family. Smokestep remembered the day well enough. In spite of this poor first impression on her part, he wanted to give the lass the benefit of the doubt. If his Quartermaster could see something in her, there had to be something there that was worth chasing after, right? Something had to have settled in her to draw the sable pirate’s attention.
 
It seemed as though Raptor didn’t want to discuss his options much more after he’d said his peace. The dark-haired male thanked Smokestep and bobbed his head before he dismissed himself. It left the young Cairn with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He kept wondering how he could assist his friend, but he didn’t know how to compel someone to want to be with him. It seemed Raptor wanted to embrace that challenge on his own, though, and so the young Captain let him walk away and hoped for the best.