Swiftcurrent Creek bad habits, schmad habits

hehe man-meat. Fox cracks me up, she's so cute. :p

His grooming smoothing of his tongue over the mussed fur of his left paw ceased after deciding that it was as laying as flat as it was likely going to ever get, and had shifted his weight against the earthen wall, inhaling deeply the rich scent of earth, and mixed with that, admittedly, of Fox. Cutthroat, while it was getting better, initially was not all that adapt at sleeping where ever as most Pirates seemed to be. He ached for freedoms — which had initially been the reason why he had joined Cuttlass’ half assed plan in the first place; to get away from Tortuga — and to Cutthroat who had not slept inside a den unless it was unexceptionally cold, snowing, or raining liked the wide and never ending expanse of sky above him, a sea in it’s own right. Dens made him feel confined, caged, which essentially he was by Swiftcurrent Creek’s borders. He understood the purpose and did not attempt to fight it. There was no use and he had helped to cause these wolves the pain of losing Crossbones. He deserved his punishment.

Fox’s voice broke the silence, causing a golden eye to peek open at her — for at some point he had laid his head across his paws and had let his eyes close to imagine the sea. His head did not rise from his paws immediately, not until he had processed it and considered his options of how he could answer it. He could have told her the cruel ways in which Njal attempted to interrogate him but that felt too much like tattling and, absurd though it was, Cutthroat did not want to sound like some mewling pup by complaining about it; yet at the same time he did not wish to lie to Fox. “As well as a Prisoner would expect,” The Pirate settled for hoping that it sated her curiosity though, in truth, it was not much of an answer. It was being honest without being too honest if that made any sense at all.

"How do you expect them to treat me?" It wasn't spoken with any sort of connotation to it beyond curiosity.