Sequoia Coast goodbye babylon

open for anyone, but looking for a @Ferahgo!

Sure enough, not too much further beyond the salt marsh fields he had found the ocean in all its splendor. Of course given the conditions of the day, it looked like a bleak, rough and rolling sea. He could not help but halt his seas along the sandy shore to watch it churn, studying after the dark clouds that pockmarked the horizon with whatever likely precipitation was to come.

A strong gale dared to push him off his feet, but his light frame stayed firmly on terra firma. It was a warmer wind than had come through, but then again he had also long left the mountains behind him. Now all that was left was the rolling span of the sea and a growing thirst from the salted heavy air.

To his surprise, the shores up this way were littered with lost souls just waiting to be snatched up by one as enterprising as he. Rigging a crew was coming with ease, but finding a ship on which to put them, not so much. Nothing on the shores so far had struck his fancy, or had but had certain disadvantages he did not care for. He was a particular sort in the matters of his quarters.

Ferahgo was distracted from his own musings when he spotted a coywolf along the beach. For a moment he thought it was Blurryface, but this one had a little too much meat on him, a far more sizeable creature than his swabbie. Also, he was not chattering up a storm and hooting and hollering to the gulls.

"Ahoy," hailed Ferahgo as he marched toward him. "Who are ye?"

His solitude did not last long, nor did Roach expect it to. Even beneath the salt and grit of the earth here, he could smell the creatures that crossed over its sands. The evidence was everywhere, perhaps most notably where high tide did not wash away their tracks so entirely. But the pull of his gaze came slow, muzzle turning long before his eyes locked onto the approaching form of another. Right away, his earthy gaze was locked onto the dark tuff of fur that sprouted from his chin, and that was certainly a point of interest given his salt-and-sand appearance.

But his gaze did not linger there and like before, he found himself adverting it to the sprawl of land between them. Land in which was closing in quickly, enough to make him tense that he had been singled out like a spineless fish left for the birds. The accent of the other stroked his curiosity, but he was far from a position to inquire about it. "Hello," he said, "I just came to see the ocean again." And as if to punctuate such, his gaze went after it longingly.

"Oh?" He lifted a brow. "Ye be likin' the ocean, eh?" One edge of his mouth curled up at its corner. "Ye be in luck, matey. I be lookin' for more bodies for me crew. Ye can see the ocean every day if ye swears yerself to me." Straight to the point, the Captain did not have time to dally. "So again, who are ye?"

He nodded; he quite liked the ocean. But he scarcely gained the opportunity to speak in depth about it like some scholar hellbent on a philosophical lecture, and was taken aback only slightly by the offer that rolled out. "A crew?" The implication of what that was happened to be clear, of course, but he could not help but be surprised by the lack of procotol that normally followed such. "I'm, uh, well," he caught himself starting and stopping, only to clear his throat. "Always been called Roach." He'd probably had a different name at some point, but it had long cast itself away and he had been handed a moniker by others. "Who're you?"

"Ye heard me, a crew." He repeated, a twitch of his ear and a pursing of his lips clearly indicative of the sort of patience he did not have. But then the coywolf spoke his name.... Roach. The Captain sniggered at this. There was a name for a lowly pirate if ever there were, a good name for his swabbie perhaps if his swabbie did not have a name already. "I am Captain Blackbeard, Ferahgo," he stated. "A share of the rations and treasures go to ye if ye will serve me. Hmmm?"

What a funny little character, that was the thought that crossed his mind. But all of it was enough to draw his gaze upward, though not as high that he dared to be perceived as a threat. Then again, he didn't doubt for a moment that a wolf out recruiting others for his crew didn't have the strength to tear a coywolf asunder. There were plenty out there who would, and Roach had his experiences encountering them.

His face scrunched up unevenly, uncertainty spreading at the punctuation of that offer again. He had questions that burned so badly on his tongue, but given that his entertainer of sorts did not have the patience to elaborate only pressured him to make a decision. It was clear that this fellow didn't care about his story, or his skills (or lack thereof). Or so Roach was inclined to assume.

"Okay," he answered breathily. Follow his guy and get free food and stuff. Okay, yeah, that sounded okay. "What's the catch?" The words came out of his mouth before he could keep his trap clamped shut. "I mean, I get the whole premise, follow you and I'm rewarded, but..." what else?

Ferahgo narrowed his eyes. "Catch?" he uttered lowly, and by now the tip of his brown tail had started to twitch. "Catch ye say? The catch is ye do as I say and ye get a share of the profits. Ye get a place to rest yer head, food to eat, and grog to drink. The catch is ye can have the ass of any lass ye can get ye paws on, unless that lass be belongin' to me." His voice rose as he went on, and as he went on he took steps toward Roach. "The catch is ye be with me or ye be against me, so what'll it be, me bucko?"

LMAO I FEEL LIKE HE GOT BULLIED INTO THIS AND I'M DYIN'

He had seemed to spark the faintest touch of perceptible ire, and as the wolf spoke he seemed to hone in on the coywolf. Roach could not avoid the urge to sink towards the earth, a nervous huff escaping him. So it was like that then, was it? "Well I guess I'm with you," he answered coolly if not drawn out, though it was hardly going to save him any face. Answering no now probably would have ended with him missing a bit of hide and as it were he hardly had the contacts to go about patching him up. "You seem to know what you're doing and I can get behind that, sure."

Well YEAH.. lmao...

The coywolf withered before him, and the hard line of his mouth curled into a jester's grin, before he guffawed loudly as Roach conceded to be on the winning side. "Haww! That's the spirit, matey!" He stepped forward to shove his shoulder into the other wolf, a welcome if ever there was one. "Now avast ye, the crew be gatherin' down the coast with me swab, Blurryface. He's yer kind, coywolf, more on the coy' side than the wolf. Go to him and help him stock the galley, then help yerself to a bite." Orders given, Roach was, like each recruit before him, dismissed from the Captain to do as he was told. This time with a wave of his paw.

yo ho, it's a pirate's life for me~

The resolve of the Captain only lasted so long, and in their close proximity Roach saw the thin line of his mouth waver towards amusement. The guffaw may as well have been in his ear, though he had hardly righted himself before feeling the dark-scruffed wolf shove into him. It knocked him off balance, leaving him to stagger and compose himself with a few steps and a watery smile of his own. At best it may have briefly conveyed that he knew not what he was entirely getting himself into, but it faded as he listened to the thick accent with rapt attention.

And naturally he hung on the words coywolf but couldn't for long — not even missing a beat he was being ordered to do something. With a sure nod and a direction given, Roach set off to find this Blurryface, and wondered what questions he would discover therein to follow.