#klinkitty

For a brief moment this one stands dumbfounded by the question of passengers, it wasn’t bad enough he’d been groggily stamping by them as is, but he couldn’t shake the thought that began to well up in the depths of his mind!

You think these loons are my crew?! They’re passengers!

Truthfully this one wasn’t sure where half of them had come from, as he had no recollection of doing business with them, but it wasn’t uncommon for other crewmembers to take on passengers and then pool the money after they’d reached port. After the blaggards had spent a bit of it themselves of course, but hey! Still, he couldn’t shake the last bit of his thought...

The old gal screeches in protest as chains and gears deep within her superstructure ratchet and twist in response to the wheel, one is left to wonder if she was ever meant to sail like this - though given her history, it’s easy to imagine not. Old frigate like this, probably meant to sail towards her foe firing with reckless abandon.

She does it though, managing to clear a sharp pass alongside the niceberg’s western slope. In the arse-cheek clenching moments of the near miss, as the adrenaline begins to disappear from this one’s system one is left to peer back in a state of shock as the wind carries the howling cries of the landmass below.

Really got to stop drinking, or, well, perhaps start. Either way... Numareia is a weird region.

Comments from behind draw this one’s attention as you regain full control of the wheel and thank the odd pegasus who happened to be passing by the bridge. He begins to wonder if anyone sleeps on this ship! And perhaps feel a tad bit self conscience.