Wheeling Gull Isle The Bagman's Gambit

For any fellow Bonechewer!

It was curious how much one relied on instinct when prior experiance was partitioned off, deep in the annals of unaccessable memory. The wolf wondered if it would ever return, or if life would simply remain reset from the moment in which he now referred to affectionatly as his 'second birth from the womb of the sea'. Either way, the wolf didn't mind. He was alive, and this blessing was enough for him.  

Guided by vague feeling and strong instinct, the wolf remained on the western shore by the Tidal Flats.  The tide receded and left a bounty for an eager scavenger to claim. The wolf grinned and made his way to one of the tide pools and dug through the salty murk with an outstretched forepaw. 

Feeling the hard shell of a muscle, the wolf felt compelled by instinct to reach in to the water and grab it with his teeth. Maw dripping with frigid water, the wolf dropped the muscle at his forepaws and began to gnaw on it's thick shell in the hopes or reaching the sustenance inside.

Sadie was walking along the Flats, the salty wind was bellowing in her ear but it was just white noise. Her crew had been doing fine lately, besides she was on a treasure hunt for her captain. The shoreline was bound to have shiny objects that could be valuable, she just knew it. Her pace was slow, muzzle close to the wet sand to scan the ground for anything that caught her eye.

Nothing was very interesting to her, she growled in annoyance. The captain wouldn't be pleased if she came back empty-handed. Her eyes stayed peeled as they scanned the ground until something flat and disk-like caught her attention.

She hurried over to it and saw the print of the stone. It looked like a star, what was it? She took a closer look and saw that it was a sand-dollar! She yipped in glee and picked up the disk into her jaws, careful to not cut her tongue on the edges. The captain was sure to be pleased by her find, this treasure was too good to be true. 

Despite her happy search, something caught the rusted's attention. Another one alike herself was walking along the side of the Tidal Flats. Automatically, her tail was led sky-high, an unseen gracefulness set into her soul as she approached the unknown wolf with a quick-paced trot.

She was never one to be a lady, she knew that well about herself. Sadie was a rusted woman who could outwit anyone (to her own opinion), but she knew when to flee or not. The woman kept her stature high as she approached the loner.

As she came closer, her jaw extended itself to speak while dropping the treasure near her front paws. "Avast! Who are ye and why ye near the Bonechewer's ship?"

The wolf quickly learned that these peculiar shelled creatures were incredibly hard to eat, and once he had cracked it's outer barrier revealing the soft and fragile creature underneath, he realized that they were hardly worth the trouble they caused. The taste was unsavory and his face contorted with displeasure as he sucked the remnants down. Food was food, and the insatiable and wanting ache in his stomach was less than sated by this mere morsel. He needed more.

Thankfully, there was a bounty of these unsavory creatures ripe for the picking. All he needed was the time to break through their thick shells, and the the wolf had all the time in the world to dawdle around and fill his stomach for the rest of the day.  

The process repeated itself and the wolf reached for another muslce in the tide pool, but as he withdrew his face from the frigid water, the smell of another wolf filled his nostrils. He turned his head from where he lie, dropping his lunch before his forepaws, and saw a wolf, a female, approach with tail held high in a display of dominance. Immediately, the wolf felt a curious surge of predatory instinct that compelled him to take, but he ignored these spur of the moment desires— for now.

The wolf remained firmly rooted to the spot, attesting to the fact that the fire burning in his stomach far outpaced the one that burned in his loins. He took the muscle in his mouth and clamped down hard, resulting in a crack and slurp, before responding to the stranger's questions.  "I'm, uh—" he paused as the thought occurred to him that with his lapse in memory he couldn't recall his own name, let alone his identity or what had brought him to the shore. "Habit," he answered, filling in the blanks with the first word to cross his mind. "I spoke with the captain this morning... I live here now."

Sadie awaited the unknown wolf to answer her question, shoulders still square and head held high. Despite her stature that was smaller when compared to the male, she was still ready for a fight if one did occur. Her curly tail flicked a little, ears twitching at his answer. He said his name was- Habit? What a strange name, and the pause between the sentence made her a bit suspicious. Was it even his real name?

The lass didn't care for the moment, the suspiciousness in her mind lingered and imprinted itself. He also spoke about speaking to the Captain, he lives with the crew now. Automatically the wench let out a hoarse laugh, coughing a little but still trying to catch her breath.

"Ye sound like Ye don't belong with pirates" She said, a crooked smile placed upon her lips. She shook her head and turned around. "If Ye is a pirate, help a lass find some treasure to bring back to the ship."

The rusted woman trotted off, not before collecting her precious sand dollar and lowering her muzzle towards the wet sand, salty sea air breathing through her fur. "Come along me bucko! The cap'n 'll be pleased if we bring back some treasure for the crew!"

For a moment, the newly named Habit wondered if all the wolves around these parts spoke in such peculiar ways. With no prior recollection to fall back on to judge the social norm, perhaps he was the strange one; speaking in unfloureshed and disjointed sentances while the others weaved proper poetry in their prose. Either way, she was right. He didn't sound anything like a pirate.  

"Guess not," spoke the Habit after plucking yet another muscle from the tide pool. Like it's brethren who came before, the muscle shared the same fate and met it's bitter end between the vicegrip that was the Habit's pressing bite. One by one, they fell to his calm cruelly.  

If the stranger wanted him to move from the spot and postpone his necessary lunch, she was going to need to try harder. If the Captain wanted treasure, he could find it himself. The stranger turned and beconed the Habit to follow, but he remained firmly rooted to the spot. "What's in it for me? he called out with a simper before fishing for his next unsuspecting victim.

Sadie had stopped her trotting pace and turned around to see that the new wolf, named Habit- wasn't following her. She growled in annoyance, trotting back and dropping the sand dollar again at her paws. The scallywag had the guts to ask what his share would be if he helped her! She took a step forward, a menacing snarl gracing her features. A small fire was lit in her honey eyes, one she could turn off at any moment or make it grow.

"Ye be on the captain's and crews' good side. Ye get a share of the rations and rum, treasure and glory. If ye a bilge rat who won't help our crew, ye be shark bait and a disgrace to Blackbeard's name."

Sadie's exceptional tongue was covered in silver and salt, she was out for blood. A pirate will help his crew and obey the captain. Meals can be found elsewhere at any time, but finding treasure could become rare. The captain was leader and if he said to find treasure then by all means she would find treasure. Again, she leaned down to pick up her sand dollar and scowled at Habit. "Mind ye, it'd be a shame of Black Beard found out about this... Cap'n isn't afraid to kill someone like yeself."

She trotted off again, intending to find more treasure an bring it back. If Habit didn't turn around his attitude soon, Sadie would be more than happy to be bringing back his skull as a trophy. She cast her head towards hi as she trotted, hopefully he would be persuaded to help the lass.

He spat a final muscle into the sand just in front of his outstreched forelimbs before looking up to see that the wench had stopped her trot and turned to face him with a malicious scowl.  She lobbed words of the sharpest acumen at breakneck speed in the Habit's direction, but his expression remained relatively unfased, in fact, the corners of his mouth twisted upward into spry and charming grin.

So feisty. The Habit liked that.

Truthfully, he cared little for his name or reputation, as he was sure he'd likely sully it without much thought. Also, he had his rations right here; ripe for the picking. The Captain, if he planned to kill him, would have done it when he was at his weakest, barely concious and crawling across the shore. But still, the thought begins to turn the gears in the Habit's head.

He rose to his feet.  "You blackmailing me?" he asked with a strangly out of place grin. "You're a fun one, you know that? I guess I have to go now..." He strolled down the beach slowly and took his ever sweet time before arriving at the woman's side. "So uh, lead on matey."

The wench's head turned to see that the man had decided to follow her. She smiled with glee, hearing his words. Of coarse she was blackmailing, she had to get her way somehow! However, his grin made her a bit suspicious again, what was he planning? However, it faded (not entirely) into her mind when he said she was a fun one. Habit also tried himself a bit of pirate's language, although it sounded quite awkward to him. His first word: matey. The woman let out a hoarse laugh and threw her head back, a large smile graced her dark lips.

"Aye! A fun one indeed! Ye get ye pirate tongue soon lad!" She offered to him, shaking some of the salty air out of her fur. Her attention turned back towards the shoreline. "Let's get a move on me bucko, find anything shiny and take it. If ye find nothing, head inland to search for skulls or bones." She kept the sand dollar within her jaws as she searched the damp sands, looking for anything reflective. However, Calypso was setting in her fog, and her vision was getting, well- foggy.

Her memory went back to Habit, on what he was doing before Sadie found him. He was eating his rations like any other crew member. He looked hungry to her, he ate many of the sea rations that Calypso provided. The lass couldn't blame him, any crew member feeling hungry should eat!

"If ye find something fine, ye can go back to eatin' ye rations. If ye help a lass out a lot, I''ll show ye a fine spot to find rations. That price be fitting enough for a scallywag like yeself?"

In a way, the Habit felt held captive by the wench who beckoned him down the beach. But, by her word he would be released as soon as their task was done. Among the company of pirates, word meant little, but the Habit felt a primal draw to this insufferable woman, so he followed without notable fuss. 

"You've got yourself a deal Freckles," he spoke, taking notice of the faint, tan spots that adorned her eyes.

It seeemed she wouldn't let him leave without some sort of fortune within his jaws and the Habit was determined to return to his lunch as soon as possible, so he kept his eyes pealed on the beach in search of any object the wench would deem treasure-worthy. As a strict utilitarian, the Habit saw no use for bits or bobs or adornments, instead he persued pleasures of the flesh— bodily gratification was much more fulfilling than a full coffer. These pirates he had taken residence with, however, seemed to respect a balance between the material and the consumable rewards of plunder. 

With the promise of a better place to find food hanging in the balance, Habit took to the beach and pressed his nose to the sand, waiting for anything shiny or strange to catch his attention. A few meters away, by some cosmic luck, he noticed a slight nub pointing upward in the sand; the point of a medium sized conch shell. He approaced with curiosity before unearthing it with his jaws.

Mouth full of sand and shell, the Habit spit his bounty in front of him and grimaced.  The shell rolled to it side; it's occupant, long gone. "Will this do? Can I eat now?"

As Sadie moved along the shore, Habit agreed to her deal, giving her the nickname of Freckles. The wench's eyes shot up to attempt to look at her forehead. She knew very well about her dots on her eyes, she smirked at Habit's nickname. Freckles, she liked it.

As the two continued their way down, the wench came across small shells and such. Many filled her mouth, Habit caught her attention though. She turned around, spitting out the treasure and walking over to Habit's find. She got closer, her ears were pricked forward. It was quite a shell to her, a conch shell that had a nice size to it. A large and crooked smile settled onto her lips.

Habit was quick to question her if the find was good enough and if he could return to his eating. The lass looked to him and nodded her head. "A nice fine lad, the cap'n will be pleased. Ye can go back to feeding yeself rations." With that, she snatched the large shell and started to fill it with her smaller shells.

Once it was filled to the brim, she picked it up gently with her front teeth and started to make her way down the coast line. The lad had done what she needed him to do, and she would stay to her word (somewhat). She would let him eat in peace and not bother him. She continued to smile with the shell caught in her jaws, being careful to not let the spikes poke her tongue.

I'll go ahead and get this one archived!

Much to the Habit's pleasure, his lucky find passed the wenches inspection. She liked, it seemed; so much so that she spit her own finds into the sand to take Habit's shell for her own. The Habit had no need for material things, so without fuss, he let the wench fill the conch shell with whatever she could find and fit into it. However, luckily for her, if the shell had been something the Habit truly set his eye upon and needed to have, lord help her.

With this unnecessary task finally over, the Habit was ready to claim his reward; the special spot to find more muscles. The other wolf, however, only honored part of their deal, and began to walk away across the beach. The Habit lifted a brow. "What about the spot?" he called out after her, but she had already made her way across the beach. Of course, he should have known that this was to be expected when dealing with pirates. 

He shook his head. She certainly had spunk to leave him high and dry. Despite his disapointment, there was a part of him that liked her for it. "Whatever," mumbled the wolf to himself as he watched the wench walk away and into the distance. 

Now, without distraction, the Habit could return to his lunch in peace.