Stavanger Bay towers and shadows

“Yer a fearless pirate to me, Raptor…”
 
The truth was a wicked thing and it cut like a dagger. Still, Smokestep could not fault his best mate for sharing what he could. The young Captain was just that – young – and he lacked many of the skills a great leader might possess. He led with his heart over his mind and allowed for the wildest parts of his emotions to make decisions for him. It was obvious that he was still full of his youth. He had already made a slew of mistakes in leading his crew, but he’d done them with such confidence that he wasn’t entirely sure the others would hold him accountable for it. Smokestep couldn’t judge Raptor for the past that he had led, because he hadn’t been risen on pirate roots himself.
 
A heavy sigh passed between his lips, and the pallid yearling shook his head sadly. “Ye know, I ain’t a full-blooded pirate meself. Me father’s a raging loon wit an ego the size o’ the ocean is all, an’ he sent me ‘n Piper back here to re-make his pack. O’ course I did no such thing,” Smokestep admitted to the sable pirate. His two-toned gaze roamed to the face of his friend and he shrugged his shoulders as though he were disappointed in himself.
 
“I met this crew, see – the Fenriver crew – an they was led by their Captain. They loved ‘im; ye ask any o’ those sea dogs an’ they’d swear up n’ down that they’d die fer their Captain. I wanted that life, aye? I followed ‘em around fer months to learn how to be the best pirate there was an’ I can’t even say I’ve done that right.”
 
Smokestep gritted his teeth as the shame crept into his chest and sat there, weighted. It was difficult for him to admit that he was wrong, but he had never told a soul about his past and how he had come to adopt the life of a pirate. Sandpiper had kept her mouth shut, but he imagined she didn’t knock him down because they were as close to family as they would ever get. It didn’t help him to know that his sister was the only person holding his secrets, or that Raptor had found him and spilled his heart. Smokestep had wanted to be as ruthless as his father, but he had grown to only despise the dark leviathan who had ruled the bay before him. Were it not for Skellige, the young boy believed he could have had any life he’d wanted.
 
Another sigh passed between his lips. “I ain’t about to fault ye fer wot ye’ve told me, mate. This girl… do ye have feelins fer her? Do ye want a family here? I’d be alright wit a lil Raptor runnin’ about.”