Stavanger Bay Cause the faint of heart gonna fall apart

“Glad to know where we stand.”

It seemed that she had taken to being curt. The boy wasn't certain what he'd said to her to be granted such an attitude, but he had a feeling that somewhere in his words, he had struck a chord. Still, the pirate turned his head so that his eyes locked to the sands beneath their feet. He could not help but to feel a modicum of heartache for the loss that he was facing. Smokestep had been more than eager to bring Roz aboard his crew; he had wanted her more than he had wanted any of the others. Still, they stood with bristling fur against each other and he felt a seize in his chest. It was not what he had wanted.

“I don't know wot ye expected. I haven't stripped ye o' the rank. Yer still First Mate, but ye sure as hell can't expect me to be pleased about how ye got it,” he admitted to her, finally returning his mismatched gaze to her face. Some of the sourness had faded from his voice, but he was still stiff with the cold winter chill that had taken hold of his bones and his soul. Then, the pirate shrugged and frowned thoughtfully. “This was our purpose. Piper an' me, we was sent back here to lead our home. Wasn't s'posed to be anythin' like it is now. It ain't just a crew; it's our home. This was me father's... our father's land. An' she's looked out fer me since we was young-” but he stopped himself there and bit his own tongue. She wouldn't have understood, he felt. There had always been Sandpiper, and so he saw fit that she should be his First Mate.

Flicking the tip of his tail, the pale Cairn had grown tired of exhausting his emotion. He had hoped to avoid the entire conversation, but he should have known the predictability of stubborn women. Smokestep did not know if she would stay and endure, or stay to make change, but he was tired of the conversation and no longer wished to fight with the red woman. He would know what her choice was, no matter which path she picked. The pale wolf turned to leave, glancing back over his shoulder.

“I guess ye've got some choices to make. Ye can learn wot it takes to be the kind o' First Mate Ironsea needs, ye can keep on like yer goin', or ye can leave.”