Stavanger Bay The seas may be rough, but I am the Captain!

Some of the herbs were familiar enough to him that Firefly boldly sought them out, plucking them from where they lay and gathering them nearby. When he delved in to the cache a second time, then a third, he was caught by surprise when a voice spoke from behind him; he didn't spook at the sound, but he did smack his head against part of the cache as he withdrew from it, disturbing the soil and half-burying a small pile again. He lifted free of the cache and turned to regard the stranger — assuming it was the wolf that tended the stores since her scent was everywhere. She looked to be quite young, which surprised him.

Aye, maybe, he responded as he turned to face her, pawing at his pile of collected herbs in order to draw them closer, show them off to her. Wasn't my intention to mess up your stockpile, I was lookin' for something to stave off infection and help my wounds heal — which, as he spoke, he realized she might not have been so keen about. Him being an usurper and all. But if she was anything like Erzulie or the witch-women of the lost lands, she'd help anyway. It was her duty.

He could've asked for aid, tried to appeal to her youth and her innocence, but the thought barely passed through his mind. Rather than do that, Firefly announced: C'mere and help patch me up — that's your job, right? You can't refuse your new boss. He flashed her a smile, although it was more chilling than it was welcoming - almost like he was daring her to refuse.