#hanth

Quick Hanth cause I realized I’ve apparently never actually drawn him aside from original sketches from seven years ago.

“Shit, didn’t even know you owned jewelry.”

Flynn fussed over the back of her neck, making the fellow Captain hold up her hair while he fiddled with the necklace. A nice low hanging piece of gold embossed rubies dangling against her usual plunging neckline. It’s really the only thing that made sense.

Norei,

This is awkward to write. Tonight I’m leaving with Miss Leighton to Thousand Needles, continuing the search for her sister and her sister’s possible born child. I don’t know why I’m writing to tell you all of this. Leighton said she was going to tell her loved ones that she was departing and possibly not coming back, as the floating barge is full of questionable pirates and goblins, so there’s a possibility something could happen to one or both of us. She made a good point by saying your friends could be loved ones and she suggested writing to you. While I wouldn’t go as far as to say either of us counts as among the others loved ones, if something happened to you I would be...remiss. 

So. We leave tonight and if everything goes as planned we’ll get back after a few hours. If everything goes wrong...well, the ship will be without a Captain and a Doctor. I leave it up to you to decide what should happen to my Sea Lion. Take good care of her. If I do come back, please wait in my bed. Naked, preferably.

Your Captain,

Flynn

P.S. In the event of my passing what sums I do have will be split amongst my relatives, you, and Miss Leighton should she make it. It’s not a fortune but it should be enough to see you comfortable for a whiles. I hope that’s some incentive to cross your fingers in the hopes I don’t return and thus make me feel less guilty for dying.

Hanth: Probably some older sailor lass in his youth. The sort to teach you the joys of casual fucking and seeing a confident woman before sailing off into the sunset. Elf Hanth would’ve been Mal by far.

Hanth: Verbal/physical. He likes some nice banter and words. He even thinks he’s a little clever. Obviously with how much he flirts around he likes physical gestures as well.

           The sun was as ferocious as ever in Ratchet. The Captain had docked the boat along the shore in between jobs and today he had some sort of special announcement. Withers absently scribble some notes down. The day, the time of day, how everyone was feeling that day. So on and so forth. A nervous flutter in his tummy gave him the hunch that they had a new job lined up. Crime made him as excited as it made him nervous. Spades.

           Standing up from his desk he gave his calves a stretch, heavy hooves thumping against the wood and his chest heaved in a yawn. “Shut up.”

His tummy fluttered again.

           That voice could only belong to one person. The person he feared most on the face of Azeroth and most parts of Outland. Slowly craning his head he saw the blonde bun quirking to the side as whilst the woman scowled. “I said shut up, not to look at me.” Immediately she made a mocking punch gesture that sent the Tauren cowering. With a rather childish laugh she threw back hew head and strutted off, catching the eye of some of the crew who were passing by. When she finally vanished off onto the deck he loosened up with a little toot. Things were never good when the Captain’s Wife was about.

           Timidly he gathered his papers and scuttled along the deck. One horn poked outside like a feeler before the rest of his head made it. All he saw was the rest of his crew going about their work. Scrubbing the deck and moving cargo. So far the coast seemed clear. With a quiet ‘ahem’ Withers managed to make it onto the deck with a comforting pet of the rail before he searched for the Captain. There were maps to go over and charts that needed reviewing. With a pant he made his way up the stairs to the helm where he spotted the Captain facing the sea with a grim expression on his face.

“C-c-c-c-captain.” Withers mumbled.

           For a moment the Swashbuckler didn’t seem to hear him. Eventually his earrings jingled when he turned his head and seemed to see Withers. “Oh, Withers. What’s that in your arms?” Walking over he managed the usual smile that made the Tauren’s tummy flutter. In the good way, though. He smiled in his shy little way before lowering his arms so the Captain could have an actual look. Sometimes he forgot how big he was. “J-j-j-j-j-ust the u-u-u-u-u-usual.” He announced with a timid bob of his head. Sea-green eyes narrowed as Hanth contemplated the papers before he waved a ring heavy hand. “Later. I need you to gather the crew. There’s a..,uhm, announcement I need to make.”

           Something in the Captain’s tone made the Tauren go queasy, but if there was one thing the Captain didn’t like it was a questioning of orders. “Y-y-y-y-y-yes s-s-s-s-s-ir.” Withers stammered before hurrying away. Halfway down the stairs he tripped and a hulking ton of cow barreled to the main deck. Some of the crew stifled snickers before walking over to help them up. The Tauren sniffled a little, but for the most part he kept it together. “T-t-t-t-t-the Captain w-w-w-w-w-wants u-u-u-u-us to g-a-a-a-a-ther.” A few gave him perplexed looks, the rest were more than happy to have time to kill. They all gathered together.

           Seagulls screamed in the sky and there was a good ten minutes of quiet mumblings before the deck door opened. The Captain’s Wife stomped out in freshly shined shoes and a flattering white shirt in the style of the Captain’s. A vest lay on top of it with a pistol or two sticking out and she had even found a parrot somewhere that squawked on her shoulder. Her lips pressed into a thin line before she drew a pistol and aimed square at Withers’ head. His tummy dropped and he heard a click-click-click of the empty revolver. The woman bellowed over in a giggle fit before a rather sorry looking  Captain Dawnwing walked out to frown at her before he shrugged.

“Well. I got a two part announcement for you all.”

           Hanth scratched at his beard for a long whiles, waiting for the crew to quiet down sufficiently and to buy himself some thinking time. Eventually it just turned into an awkward silence and he exhaled a deep breath. “After some time spent…thinking, I’m happy to announce a promotion.” Many of the crew seemed excited by the prospect. Being above a swabbie meant you weren’t a swabbie. With a polite hand the Captain eased them down some before managing a very forced smile. “Let’s all congratulate…Malanorei for being promoted to the position of First Mate.” There were a few limp claps among the crowd. The only excited one being Withers.

Withers stopped when he realized he was the First Mate. “U-hm, C-c-c-aptain.”

           Mala shot him a cold glare that even Hanth winced out, more out of pity for the Tauren. Clearing his throat he smiled. “The second announcement is another promotion. It’s, uh, well.” Rubbing at his forehead he glanced down at an open palm, mouthing some words as if he were reading something that was scribbled on his hand. “Let’s all congratulate…Malanorei, again. She has attained the position of official yeller. Whenever you guys displease me and she’s on hand she gets to chew you out. Yay.”

There were fewer claps this time.

           Withers bit back a sob. The Captain eventually dismissed them after announcing Malanorei’s qualifications, the foremost being that she was his wife and everyone was scared of her. Sitting on his bunk he sniffled some before opening up a book. Stories always made the Tauren feel better, at the least. And he’d still be Quartermaster! The day wasn’t so bad. He was in the middle of an enticing tale about a Taureness who was traveling across Kalimdor when his reading candle went out with a hiss.