"I can help-" Ewan was cut off and was promptly yanked toward Tully. He was tasked with serving food and keeping mugs full. It involved a lot of scurrying As usual the boy bristled at being ordered about, though it made the hawkish cook ever-more demanding.
The Poison Storm was in higher spirits with its wounds licked. It was the insurmountable invasion, not the death, which set things off kilter. There were cheers and boisterous talk of raiding the fat galleons hauling goods from the jungles to Adela. No one dared mention revenge on the Mist Raiders.
"Just wanted to say," Crag slammed a heavy fist down on the table. "Been damn fine sailing with ya these past years, Floren."
Several of the men, most of whom were taught or mentored in some way by the older pirate, slurred congratulations on his 'retirement' from piracy. Floren gave a bashful smile at the accolades; he was never much for words. Eyes turned expectantly to Isabeau. Ewan met her gaze, too, but reprimand for a petty theft was sure to dampen morale (not that he cared.)
