Stavanger Bay Mr.Boombastic

The grin was all it took for the pale corsair to forgive Engel of his misspoken title. He cast the shanty-maker a bit of a stern look before cocking a brow and chuckling. Smokestep had been called many things in his short life, and he was certain that he would add a great number of monikers to that list. The lookout inquired about his singing voice and the Captain cocked his head to the side with a fake sense of thoughtfulness. “Aye, ye’ve got a fine singer in ye,” he remarked with a solemn tone. “I have gathered a number of shanties meself,” the pale wolf then teased with a wild glint in his gaze and a proud puffing of his chest. With that being said, the pirate circled around his reddish friend and looked him up and down. “Do ye believe ye’ve got wot it takes fer a fine shantyman?”