Gilded Bay Please hide me, I run to the rock

another one @Lynford @Kingsley @Hawkes @Latoya @Vulcan

Backdated 11/7

She'd refused to sit idle while they were here. She knew of some other captians who would, reaping the rewards and benefits of their crews hard work. Eartha couldn't bring herself to such idleness, despite her royal blood. Idleness brought weakness. And she refused to slip into weakness from her own hubris.

The land around where she had set up camp was rich, even as the land slipped into cold. It angered her, but she couldn't see herself setting up permanently here. Not with the small crew she had now.

She walked alongside a bay, relishing in the familiar feeling of saltwater spray. There were faint scents here, but they were too myriad for her to discern age, sex, or creed.

Did the writer mention already that Vulcan was rather fond of Eartha?

Not in, like, a sexual way. She was old enough to be his mother. Probably older than his mother. He saw her as a surrogate parent, instead, and followed in her footsteps accordingly. He felt protective over her.

Perhaps that was why he trailed the captain today—close enough to let her know he was there, far enough away to leave her alone with her thoughts (and not be a total kiss-ass creeper).

Vulcan, too, took in the scents that lined the bay. No one had settled here for a long time. There were only passers-by, and what a shame! It was a beautiful place, perfect for a conquest. Did this land not have any bands of wolves looking for a home?

Maybe once they'd taken revenge upon Eartha's nemeses and recaptured Alizarin, the captain might be convinced to stay here.

Maybe. Skeleton Quay was special, though. Well. Nothing really special, except for the memories.

Goddamn it. He was rambling within his own head. 

He trotted along the beach then, catching up to Eartha, sand flying in his wake. Anything interestin', cap'n? Vulcan called out in his customary affected Tortugan drawl, lips parting in a toothy smile.

Vulcan.

Ever since the debacle she had been skeptical of her younger crew members, wondering what flights of youthful fancy might take them away from her once more. Vulcan was one of the better ones, but that only granted him some liberty in her eyes. No, she responded, raising her head. The scents are too many and too old here.

We oughta take this place for ourselves, Vulcan replied, looking out over the bay. I know you're fond of the quay, but I think there might be more room here. . .and prettier, too. Of course, that was his opinion, and he probably wasn't the best wolf to survey about spatial awareness. Any awareness, really. Big dummy.

He glanced at her, brows raised. What're we doin' when we find the boy? Take him back. . .? He wasn't sure he had ever gotten the full plan. He might not even be allowed to hear the whole plan. It would make sense that only senior members of the crew would be privy to all the finer details.

But hey, he hadn't fucked up in like. . .months? So that was something.

He spoke the quiet part loud — she did like the look of this place. And he was right in all of his observations, crude as he sounded as he spoke them. The thoughts had flitted into her mind long before, when she first strode onto the shore here. Let's complete our mission first before we start thinking of hypotheticals, she said, more to herself than to Vulcan.

He will be punished. she said simply. At this point Alizarin was far too much trouble than he was worth, no longer a boon to her crew alive. No, if she found him, she'd kill him. She wasn't much for bloody theatrics, but she kept fancying taking his head back to mount — either at the Quay or some new place she established for herself.