Wheeling Gull Isle pinkie pie's party cannon

Sorry for the delay! I don't mind at all, the more the merrier!

With the captains correction lingering for a moment, the Habit was quick to amend his response. "Mhm," he responded with an affirming nod. The Habit was a headstrong creature, but it was far too early in his stay to carelessly step on any toes or ruffle any feathers. "Best ship I ever saw." In fact, he didn't quite know what ship even was. These pirate types had words for everything. Nevertheless he could assume it meant the the territory they had take occupancy in.  He certainly wasn't lying... as it was only territory he could remember after the sea had so kindly spit him back to life.  

Before he could respond further to the captain's questions, they were joined by a slack-jawed, small, and boisterous fellow who saw fit to butt himself rather tactlessly into the conversation. The swabby turned his attention to the Habit and as he spoke, Habit could feel small dropplets of spittle landing on his face.  A deep scowl settled across the Habit's features before gumbling, "You don' smell so great yourself, halfbreed." Lesser creatures, the lot of them.

Thankfully, the swabby's attention turned his attention away and the Habit's temper was abated. For now.