Stavanger Bay A hunting we will go

The frown, and the words that came from her mouth next, caused Rosalyn to stiffen, even with Awinita's clear deference in posture.  She couldn't have known, but they hit far too closely to Smokestep's to not catch in the auburn's woman thoughts and remain, igniting again the ire she'd felt when he had so slammed her worth.

Ye don't even have yer sea legs, lassie an yer tryin' to prove that ye can run the crew. Pathetic

"I led a crew of my own for a good long stretch before leaving to come north."  She said, her ears twisting forward, and lifting her head as if daring the other woman to say more.  That was the thing, the secret she had learned.  In her old crew she had not been the strongest, nor the most able.  But for a long while, she had been the cleverest.  The most likeable.  A crew needed leaders who could hold the place together, be it captain or first mate or bosun.  If any of them earned the crew's ire or lost its respect, it reflected poorly on the entirety, and it could split apart a group like this one at the seams.  She got the feeling none of the wolves in this crew felt that way and it set her fur on edge, even as she kept her tone carefully neutral.  She did not want to set anything off, but the captain's words were too recent in her ears to not have an effect now.