Cerulean Cape it's the plastic that lasts

The girl did not look as though she trusted him, or the food that he was offering. Smokestep didn’t blame her for feeling as though he could betray her. Still, he held his distance and made certain that he did not overstep his place. The young pirate wasn’t keen on frightening girls away; he did all that he could to keep them around. He was confident enough to believe that if he could win over Hex, he could easily win over this sad little stray with a few cheery words and a fresh meal. Then again, Smokestep believed that he was a gift to most and that his charm could persuade the ocean to part if he so wished it. It was the flaw of being young and so sure that he had found his calling.
 
“Ye alright, lass?” he inquired to her with a flash of concern on his features. The question did not seem as though he was hoping to pry, but simply to understand. Keen on keeping his distance until she made a move to close the space, Smokestep watched her from the corner of his eye and made sure that she wasn’t choking herself on the fresh meal. She was bedraggled enough to seem a little bent, but he couldn’t tell if the circumstances had come from the sea or from his own kind. Wolves were awful and nasty sometimes, and he was no stranger to the viciousness of his own kin.