Stavanger Bay And as you get back into line, a mob jumps to their feet

“Aye, ye are…”
 
It was a sober admittance that he offered her, but he did agree that she was – perhaps – the most pleasant part of the Ironsea crew. At least, she was one of those things that had brightened his mood, no matter the circumstance. He hadn’t been pleased with their previous conversation, but he was willing to move on if they could understand each other. That was really what it was about when you lived with others, wasn’t it? They had to be able to act as adults during difficult times, no matter what they believed to be right, and push to sympathize with one another. Smokestep had wanted his crew to be close-knit and to act as a large family might, but he did not have much of an idea as to how family was supposed to act. The only family that he had truly cared about was the only family that had trekked into the bay with him; Sandpiper was his rock and his foundation for everything regarding kin. This was the one thing he had wanted Roz to take away from their previous conversation.
 
The question that she offered him afterward was one that settled strangely with the corsair. He casted her a look from the corner of his eye and regarded the inquiry with a thoughtful frown. “Not yet,” Smokestep answered her in another sober tone. It felt as though his days were numbered; it wouldn’t have been long before someone from his past would barge in and find a reason to throw him to the sharks for all his wrongdoing. “Wot about ye?”