Wheeling Gull Isle the beatings will continue until morale improves

She dropped that line of questioning, inquiring into something entirely different. Ferahgo met her gaze as she moved toward him. He was unblinking, his expression unreadable and at length he said nothing, as if he debated giving her any answer at all. It was true that he did to some degree; he seldom explained himself to anyone. To most, he would have said because he could he did, if he said anything at all. But it was a common theme with her, that she should compel him to stray from his usual pathways.

"Ye chose to be a wench. So ye get treated like a wench." He answered, and again he shrugged, for this was not so complex to him. He had no respect for wenches and treated them cruelly, as did most of the men. That was the role of the wench, to be an outlet; it was how they best served on the crew. "Ye are a fine creature. I would not have taken ye if ye were not."