Goblin Town -- Logs

Cinnamon happily digs into the food once it's served. The fresh air and daily exercise makes her hungry! Also, good hot food should be appreciated. Thorn too enjoys the meal. It's warm and close and is thoroughly enjoyable -- a welcome respite from... well, from hanging in the rigging and trying very hard not to lose his footing! He's quite happy to listen to the others' chatting, and if asked he'll... well, do his best to relate what amusing anecdotes he has from the Army, but he's not a storyteller, unfortunately. The feast is raucous and goes late into the night. There are stories told and songs sung. The Havvarger talk the passengers into telling stories and singing songs of their own. Thomas turns out to have an amazing singing voice and seems happy to share that, even if he doesn't talk much or look at people often.

Near the end of the meal Arvid stands and holds up a heavy mug of mead, "Tonight, we welcome friends -- the first friends that we do not have to hide from in a very long time. It is an auspicious voyage we undertake! In two days we will all change. We will be wolves together! -- and we invite our friends to pay worship to the lady of light with us." Cinnamon beams at that -- what a lovely toast! She hopes the Council hires the Valkyrie often. She'd like to see the Havvarger do well! Thorn raises his own mug to the toast, smiling quietly. This has proven to be a far more eventful journey than expected. Even if things turn very sour at the trod, well... he's glad to have made this trip.

After the feast everyone goes to find their beds. There's much hugging and, in a few cases, friendly smooches on the cheek. The Havvarger are apparently simply very physically affectionate... though the mead and the moon might have something to do with it. Cinnamon sighs happily once she's in her bed, giving herself a warm hug. This was a very nice night! She's so happy the supernatural world found her!

The next morning, of course, there's some grumbling and a lot of aspirin. Willem groans as he has his with coffee, announcing to no one in particular, "The tablets are much easier than willow tea... and they do not taste so nasty!" Cinnamon has to cover her grin a lot -- since she knows she's a drinking lightweight, she made sure to stick to fresh water! But she's happy to run and fetch for those who're hungover and grumpy. Thorn, for his part, managed to remember to drink lots of water with the little mead he had. So he still has a bit of a headache, but it's merely irritating rather than intolerable.

There's actually a lot of running and helping to do. Fraser gathers Cinnamon up into a tight hug, with a booming laugh, when she arrives with aspirin for him, "You are a goddess amongst dragons, lady!" Cinnamon giggles startledly at the hug! There really is a change happening with Fraser, she can see. His beard and hair were thick to start with, but the beard seems to be crawling up his high cheekbones. Willem and Rafe scowl at Thorn in a friendly way when he proves not to be as hungover as them. Shane is also not hungover -- and he teases Veles, who is.

Spice is a little bleary-eyed as she looks up at the horizon and scowls, "Is it going to rain? It smells kinda like rain."

Cinnamon grins companionably at Shane as she hands the aspirin to Spice and Veles, then says, "I don't know, Spice? I mean, it smells like... ocean to me?"

Thorn says, "How does that old saying go? 'Red sky at morning, sailor's warning'?"

Spice squints and points to the eastern horizon, "Then maybe it's a fuckin' warning?" Indeed. There are clouds on the horizon and the sunrise is gorgeous. There are purples and pinks and -- yes -- reds.

Cinnamon studies the horizon and smiles, "Well, it is a gorgeous morning... but I figure the Havvarger will know what to do about it?" She grins wryly as she adds, "'Cause I sure don't!"

Arvid is a little slower than he might normally be getting on deck; he scowls at the horizon, head tipping up to smell the air. Rubbing his face with both hands, he growls, "We need to make sure everything that needs to be secured is secured. Get out the electric torches. I hope we will not need them."

Cinnamon nods as she spots Arvid, murmuring to Spice, "Sounds like you were right!" Once she's finished handing out the aspirin, she heads down to her cabin and makes sure everything is battened tightly down... and then she comes back up to lend a hand wherever it's needed. Thorn too heads down to his shared cabin with Shane, and together they make sure nothing is going to fall out or come undone or go flying around should the ship start pitching and rolling. Then he too makes himself available to the crew. Rafe and Willem will probably want him to help with the rigging -- he's okay with that.

Fraser is grim when people come back on deck, and his voice carries, "It does not seem like it will be a bad storm. It will not be here until at least late afternoon. Once everything is stowed and battened down, go about your days as normal."

Cinnamon whispers to Josie, "I wonder why Fraser is grim seeming, if this doesn't look like a bad storm? Did I miss something while I was below?"

Josie chews her bottom lip, "Because if there's a storm tonight, he won't be able to help. Him or Rafe -- either one."

Cinnamon nods thoughtfully, "Ah, got it. Well, at least he knows they won't be in the way, right?"

Josie nods, "They won't be in the way, but they'll also be down two sets of experienced hands..."

Cinnamon shakes her head, "That's hardly their fault! Well... maybe I'll go see them tonight, then. Maybe I can help them feel better a bit?"

Josie says a bit doubtfully, "Maybe? I think Fraser likes to help -- he likes to make sure things go right -- and he won't be able to. If it's not a bad storm, maybe it won't be so stressful for him..." She trails off a little, watching the Havvarger move with the most silence any of them have seen. Cinnamon nods thoughtfully -- she can see that! She likes knowing things are running along smoothly too, after all.

Cinnamon pitches in with a will, wherever she can find someplace to help out. If the storm's not arriving until afternoon, they've got the entire morning to make sure the ship is, er... ship-shape? She giggles to herself, wondering if that's where that term came from. Not only are there flashlights, there are also electric lanterns hung, and the crew spends the day stringing extra ropes here and there to hold onto if Valkyrie starts heaving around. Jareth makes sure everyone has waterproof outer clothing, "Not that it'll keep everything dry, but it'll let you be a little less soaked." Thorn thanks Jareth, and helps Rafe and Willem with the rigging. Some needs to be loosened, others tightened, in an obscure geomancy that only the two longtime sailors seem to understand... but they convey what needs to be done with Thorn well enough.

Cinnamon nods to Jareth and pulls out her rain slicker... but is happy to accept a pair of oilskin pants as well. She sighs amusedly at herself as she realizes how dumpy they make her look -- then grins. She'd rather be dumpy and dry, honestly! She can't help giggling at one point as she looks up to nod at Fraser's instructions to her, then shyly explain, "You're, um... getting fuzzier, Fraser!"

Fraser grins and displays canines that have grown longer and sharper, "Oh, aye, I am! An' t'night I'll be even fuzzier, lass!"

Cinnamon laughs again, "Oh, and toothier too!" She giggles, adding, "Grandmother, what big teeth you have!" It doesn't occur to her that having someone not actually of his immediate pack, who is displaying a cheerful and unruffled reaction to him, might be new or a relief to the cursed werewolf -- she's simply not really afraid of big canid teeth after seeing Elias's nearly shark-like mouthful of fangs!

Fraser grins and sweeps Cinnamon up into a hug to growl near her ear, "The better to eat you with, m'dear!" Then he laughs and lets her go, almost bounding away to help with something. Cinnamon gets a bad case of the giggles at that! She's pink with blushing amusement as he darts off, and still grinning happily to herself as she continues knotting the ropes as instructed.

Shane wanders up and grins down at her, "And just what did he say to make you blush like that?"

Cinnamon blinks up at Shane -- then giggles and turns pink again! "Oh! I, er, I was teasing him! He's got pointy teeth now, you know?" She raises two fingers to her mouth, making a sort of small, jabby motion that looks hilariously like a clumsy movie-vampire's fangs, and continues, "I said 'grandmother what big teeth you have' -- and he was just like the fairy tale! Red Riding Hood, right? -- and said 'the better to eat you with, my dear' and then ran off." She giggles again, "He's funny!" then laughs as she adds, "I think he likes those big 'scoopy-uppy' hugs too -- have you noticed how often he gives them?"

Shane puts a hand over his mouth, eyes twinkling -- Cinnamon may not recognize flirting, but he does! "They all seem to, except Thomas. They're pack animals. Physical affection is important."

Cinnamon sighs happily as she continues knotting the rope, "That's so nice! I hope I get that relaxed someday." Raising her head to beam at Shane, she adds, "It's so cool that he seems really relaxed about changing tonight too, don't you think?" She pauses, glancing across the deck as she adds more softly and gravely, "Poor Thomas, though. It's like... something kind of bad must've happened to him, I'm guessing. I'm glad he's got a pack to help him."

Shane nods and looks over across the deck towards Thomas, his face grave, "Yes. Something really bad, I think. They're all very gentle with him... despite their sort of rough and ready natures." He puts an arm around Cinnamon's shoulders and gives her a squeeze, "I'm going to help with putting on storm covers."

Cinnamon nods happily to Shane, "Okay! Yell if you want some help, ok?"

Elsewhere, Arvid is speaking with Thorn, "It will likely be no more than first aid needed, but can you be ready?"

Thorn nods to Arvid, "Certainly! What sort of injuries do you expect? Bruising, contusions, broken bones, that sort of thing?"

Arvid raises his head and his nostrils flare as he breathes in the air, "Lots of bruises. Scrapes. Cuts. Even possibly a broken bone or two. But we are going to hope not. Broken bones are hard to set in any case -- and harder in a storm on a ship."

As the day latens, the sky darkens; the clouds are gathering quickly and heavily in the west. In other words, they're sailing right toward it. Arvid is looking quite grave and speaking with Fraser and the others, voices low. They seem to be discussing whether to use the sea anchor and ride it out in place, or sail into it. Cinnamon watches with interest -- and, honestly, a little worry once she sees the experienced sailors are worried too. But she continues working as best she can at the myriad little jobs she can do, so the crew can do the more complex jobs without concern for the petty detail work.

It's not until the sun is starting to set that the first raindrops fall on the deck... which is just about the time that Rafe and Fraser start heading below. Fraser is snarling and spitting curses at the fact that he has to be in the cage. Rafe snorts and says something to him that makes Fraser laugh and answer in that Germanic tongue they all share. Cinnamon watches with a bit of worry... but relaxes as Rafe gets Fraser to calm down a bit. She glances around for another crew member, wondering if there's anything else she can do to help. She feels almost jittery with repressed excitement -- she wants to keep working! It hasn't occurred to her that she's displacing her nerves onto action.

Thorn too is increasingly nervous, but careful to appear steady and calm. He makes sure the medical supplies are where he knows they are -- so he can get to them in a hurry -- and he checks with Willem to see where he should be during the storm. The sailor squeezes Thorn's shoulder, "On deck until things get really hairy -- then we'll want you in the infirmary. If for no other reason than you can't set a bone when you're sliding all over the deck!" His smile is a little tight.

Arvid approaches Cinnamon, rumbling amusedly, "You've re-tied that knot five times, lass."

Cinnamon blinks startledly at Arvid, then glances down at the rope in her hands, "Oh!" She blushes hotly, "I, I'm so sorry, Arvid -- I didn't mean to mess up!" She hastily starts unknotting the huge knot as she adds, "I, um, I'm happy to lend a hand elsewhere if you want?"

Arvid smiles, but his eyes aren't as bright as they usually are, "Go look in on Fraser and Rafe, please? I want to know if they're agitated. We all have better than human senses even when we're two-legged, but the ones in wolf form will have even sharper senses."

Cinnamon nods in relief, "Happy to!" She finishes straightening out the rope, then trots off towards the hatchway to belowdecks. It hasn't occurred to her -- though it would please her immensely to realize it -- that she's moving far more quickly and easily on board the Valkyrie now! She weaves her way through the narrow passage to the brig, calling out ahead of herself, "Halloo! It's me, Cinna- oh, wait, that's right: Rafe doesn't speak English, right? Okay, umm... sono io, Cinn- er, Cannella?" She giggles at herself as she arrives, "Hi! Anything I can help with? Come posso aiutare?"

Jareth is in the brig, making sure the doors are secured and that there's nothing in the cells that might hurt the two men. Fraser is just handing Jareth his clothing, leaving him in nothing but extremely furry skin. He's still bipedal, but his face has changed shape and he has the kinds of ears that Josie does. Rafe is already four-legged and pacing his cell. Cinnamon eep!s and hastily turns so she's not watching, "Sorry! Excuse me! I'll wait!"

Fraser laughs and licks his lips, then lolls his tongue -- which is definitely no longer human. His voice is raspy, "No worries, little dragon. I'm not shy." His eyes are a yellow that almost matches Aisling's.

Jareth snorts and gives Fraser a gentle shove, "Behave yourself. She's a passenger and a councilor." Fraser laughs and sits down on the rack in the cell.

Cinnamon is slightly pink when she glances over her shoulder at the sound of Jareth closing the brig's door, "W-well... um, well, excuse me regardless?" She turns around and smiles uncertainly at the crewmates, "So, um... Arvid said I sh-should look in on you while you're in wolf form since you'll have even better senses then? So... er, is there anything I should do or know?" A heartbeat later she almost facepalms, "Oh! I'm a dope -- I remember now!" She calls to the pacing Rafe in French, and translates for any non-French speakers present, "Pardonnez-moi! J'ai oubli� que votre langue �tait le fran�ais, pas l'italien! Please forgive me: I forgot your tongue was French, not Italian!" Then she mutters quietly to herself, "Sure hope I got that accent right!"

Fraser grins, eyes gleaming, "Been holding on hard as I can. I don't like how it feels." He nods toward Rafe, "Neither does he. Thought... rrrr... thought it... would..." He growls again and his head and neck twist as the change becomes visible.

Jareth shakes his head, "He was trying to hold on. The storm's worse than he hoped."

Cinnamon blinks, pushing her glasses up, "Holding on... to human form?" She nods gravely, "Well, if you want a message taken to Arvid, guys, I'm happy to either take one now, or stick around just in case, okay?"

Fraser clenches his jaw and when he speaks, Jareth has to translate, "He says tell Arvid not to set the anchor. We'll need to ride it."

Cinnamon nods and darts off, calling over her shoulder, "Got it! Back in a bit!" She gallops heavily up the wooden stairs to the deck, glancing around for the captain as soon as her head rises above deck level.

The rain is getting heavier and the Havvarger have pulled their hoods up. They've also sent Aisling, Spice, and Veles belowdecks. The wind is picking up noticeably as well -- up till now, standing on the deck of Valkyrie had been an experience in having sea legs. Now it's getting treacherous, and feeling like their first day out of port. Cinnamon frowns, hastily grabbing a nearby safety rope so she's secure -- and only then does she continue looking around for the captain, calling to the nearest crewmember, "Arvid?!" That turns out to be Thomas, who points up toward the helm. Cinnamon waves thanks to Thomas, then starts working her way up towards the ship's stern. She's not foolish about it, though -- she goes hand over hand along the nearest rope, keenly aware that this is not her native environment and it's incumbent upon her to keep safe and not make more work for the already overworked crew.

Arvid is at the helm with Bjarke. They're standing very close together and their body language is tense. Cinnamon calls out to them as she approaches, trying to get the news to them as quickly as possible, "Hello! Captain Arvid! Fraser says not to set the anchor, sir, because we need to ride it -- he said the storm is worse than he'd hoped!" She keeps on working her way to the helm, though -- she needs to be sure she's delivered the message correctly before she heads back to the brig.

Arvid nods grimly, "As I thought." He says a few very sharp, very guttural words -- then takes a deep breath. His eyes scan the rigging and the sails before looking back at Cinnamon, "Many of your people should be belowdecks."

Cinnamon nods at that, relieved to hear they're all okay, "Good! So, do you want me to take a message back, or what, please?" She has to shout to be heard over the shrieking wind, and holding her hood up with one hand both so it's not yanked off her head, and to protect her glasses (a little bit, at least) from the driving rain. She's clinging tightly with one hand to the rail as she does so.

Further down on the ship, Thorn hears Cinnamon's shout; he grimaces. He's just inside the doorway to the fo'c's'le (can a word really have that many apostrophes?!), where the infirmary is located, and looking out onto the deck from the deckside of the closed door. Worse than Fraser had hoped? Definitely not a good thing. Willem is with Thorn; the crewman looks at the human and rumbles gravely, "If anything happens bad... it has been an honor."

Up by the steering wheel, Arvid shakes his head, "Stay down there unless we call for more hands!" He hesitates, then adds gruffly, "Make sure there are plenty of buckets with your people."

Cinnamon nods, saving her breath as she turns and starts working her way back to deck level. When she spots Thorn she waves with a free hand, going hand-over-hand down the rope to him so she can pass on Arvid's message. She pants a little as she stands out of the wind for a few seconds... then grins tightly at Thorn, "You need anything before I head back to the brig, Thorny? Everyone okay here?"

Thorn lets out a breath. "Everything's as ready as it's going to be," he confesses to Cinnamon. "I'll keep an eye on things on this end of the ship, but I'll be right by the infirmary if anyone needs anything."

Cinnamon grins ruefully, "Get the buckets to our folks too, please, ok?" She pats his arm, trying not to accidentally shed rain all over him, and then heads slowly and carefully back out into the storm so she can return to the brig.

The next handful of hours seem to stretch out like taffy. The ship begins to rock harder within the waves' rough grasp, and both Thorn and Cinnamon get told it's because the waves are getting bigger -- she's not simply skimming along them any more. Instead, now she's having to climb them. Indeed, once they're both told that, they can feel the long, laborious climb up the wave's face... and the following stomach-dropping swoop as Valkyrie nearly dives down into the trough! Thorn is on-deck only briefly, and then only as quickly as he can make it back to cover -- but he gets soaked to the skin within thirty minutes of the storm really breaking. After that he stays inside the hatchway, feeling the rocking and swaying motion as the rolling ship pitches and yaws with the ocean.

In the brig, Fraser and Rafe are both pacing and growling. Fraser, as a wolf, is enormous! His fur is as red as his hair, but his shoulder would stand easily as high as Cinnamon's waist -- and he's also extremely broad through the chest. Rafe is a smoky gray wolf and is much more the average size for the species. Cinnamon does her best to help the two caged wolves remain (relatively) calm: she talks to them, admires how lovely and shiny their fur is, sings some of the sea shanties she's learned in the last few days... the young dragon doesn't realize it, but Elias was right regarding her 'breeding true' -- in that her voice is pleasant to listen to for the two agitated wolves. If she thinks they won't snap at her, and that they'd like it, Cinnamon is even willing to reach in between the bars and rub ears and chins.

Rafe is the more easily calmed of the two -- he licks quickly at Cinnamon's hand, whining nervously as the ship pitches and yaws in the grip of the storm. Fraser, on the other hand, spends a lot of time with his teeth bared, snarling deep in his throat. Reaching into his cage seems like it might be a really bad idea. Cinnamon sighs a bit wistfully. She's pretty sure he couldn't break her skin... but she also doesn't want to agitate him further by doing so. Well, she'll just keep doing the best she can, then!

Even belowdecks, the sound of wind and even thunder are still very audible. Thorn, being closer to a hatchway, is the first one to hear Bjarke yelling through the storm, "Man overboard! Man overboard!" Thorn feels cold as he hears the call. Someone overboard? In this weather? That's... that's worse than merely 'not good.' This is a storm. Finding someone who has gone overboard in calm weather is hard enough! But he hesitates before charging forth on deck... then shakes his head and goes forth anyway, grabbing hold of one of the safety lines and tying it around his waist. He throws himself towards the gunwale, staring frantically out into the dark gray morass of stormy night. It's difficult to tell where sky ends and sea begins, especially with the rain -- and the encroaching darkness doesn't help.

Jareth was on his way down to the brig when he hears the horrible call. He swears, ducking his head belowdecks to shout over the wind to the folks in and around the brig, "Someone's overboard!"

Cinnamon abruptly cuts off her singing, her head jerking up -- then she mutters a heartfelt (and highly unusual, for her!), "Shit!" as she runs as fast as she can for the hatchway! She doesn't care if she gets slammed back and forth a bit by the ship's rolling -- she just yells to Jareth, "Where?! Did you see? Show me!"

Jareth gets out of the way fast -- most of the Havvarger have extremely good reflexes, after all! He points up the ship's ladder and yells after Cinnamon, "Starboard! Over the starboard rail! It's Alfred!"

Cinnamon pelts up the ladder and bursts out onto the deck -- then almost falls ass over tea kettle as the ship surges up another wave! [This sucks!] she thinks frantically to herself, slapping both arms out to grab onto the nearest anything to keep herself upright -- and a heartbeat later she's in dragon form, sinking her claws into the wooden deck. Her long, sinuous neck stretches out to stare anxiously into the fitful, night-gray waves, searching for Alfred.

It's night. It's storming. The sky and the sea are nearly the same color. What helps the sharp-eyed Cinnamon is the fact that the slickers the crew were wearing are bright colors. They've even got reflective patches on the shoulders. Even so, there's almost no way anyone without excellent sense would have seen him. He's at least a hundred yards off the starboard side and getting further. Cinnamon roars, "Hang on, Alfred!" as she instantly launches herself off the deck, wings spreading reflexively to try and grab at the screaming wind.

Thorn turns quickly -- he had been on the port side and hadn't heard Jareth's directions to starboard -- just in time to see Cinnamon turn into a full-fledged dragon! He gapes for several long moments, then gives a startled cry as she leaps out into the howling storm. As he's looking in Cinnamon's direction, he also spots what likely happened: one of the ropes strung along the starboard rail has parted! It would have been easy for Alfred to get thrown around with a rope that size letting go. Thorn mutters a curse and rushes to get the doors ready to open into the infirmary. Willem is there in an instant, helping the medic get the doors chucked into place. Thorn isn't going to try first aid on-deck in a driving storm, of course -- but if a line parted... that may mean broken bones -- or worse -- for poor Alfred.

Cinnamon is smacked down hard by the wind, smashing noisily into the choppy, clinging ocean. She holds her head high, though, so she doesn't breath water. Swimming madly with all four legs and her long, sinuous tail, she keeps her wings spread out across the water to give herself as much stability as she can. With good perception -- and maybe some good luck -- she's finally able to get to Alfred! Once she's scooped up the werewolf, Cinnamon twists her long neck around to deposit Alfred on her back, though she doesn't release her mouth-grip on him until she feels him grab her around her neck. As soon as she can talk again she bellows over the wind, "Tie yourself on to me -- I'm going to try going faster and I don't want to lose you!"

Alfred is shaking like a leaf, his voice hoarse almost to the point of being inaudible -- but he gets his point across: he's lost the use of his left arm. What he can do, right now, is to simply get his right arm around Cinnamon's neck -- so as to cling tightly to her. While Alfred is struggling to do so, Cinnamon swirls around in the ocean and angles herself towards the dim glow that is the Valkyrie in this dreadful, obscuring storm. She takes a deep breath as she realizes she may not make it back to the ship tonight! But... no, she is not giving up! Thinking furiously, she does her best to pull up everything she can remember about navigation -- and it comes flooding back into her mind with gratifying swiftness and clarity. That's a huge relief to the young dragon for a heartbeat or two... and then she scowls as she realizes poor Alfred is seriously injured.

"Okay... okay, let me think..." Cinnamon turns her head to look around carefully through the slashing rain and thundering ocean... then nods once. Calculate how to stay on track now, while Alfred is still strong. Then, if necessary, try and tie him to her with her big paw-hands... then try returning to the ship. She's got a plan! Cinnamon takes a deep breath, mentally plotting out her navigational path -- and trying to make it so she and the Valkyrie will intersect at some point! She doggedly reminds herself: everyone says dragons are strong, right? Well... okay then! Now's the time for her to be strong -- for Alfred as well as for herself!

Cinnamon is a bit worried about Alfred losing his grip... but after her calculations she realizes: maybe, just maybe -- if she wings and paddles and thrashes all at once -- she can move more swiftly than the Valkyrie?! She grits her teeth with determination and starts mentally repeating the motto of one of her favorite childhood stories: [I think I can, I think I can!] Over and over, folding and unfolding her waterlogged wings to catch the wind, paddling as hard as her thrashing tail and paws will allow, she does her best to arrow through the waves... and slowly, heartbreakingly slowly... the dim glow on the horizon starts to get brighter and clearer! It's not easy -- nothing in a storm like this is easy -- and it's not graceful... but it's eventually 'doable'... and despite the raging storm, Cinnamon doggedly gets closer and closer to the Valkyrie... until she finally gets there!

Cinnamon can't help a short, tired, but also triumphant roar as she finally gets close enough to reach out with her long neck and clamp her jaws closed on some part of the ship. She uses that to pull herself closer, then uses her claws and the hooked 'fingertips' on her wings to draw herself ever closer alongside. Only once she's sure she can deposit Alfred on the deck does she turn her head and gently grab him again, then raise her head high and glance around before releasing him there -- she wants to be sure there's someone ready to grab the poor man before letting go!

Amazingly, the worriedly watching Thorn actually spots Cinnamon swimming fiercely up alongside the Valkyrie, through the haze of the pelting rain. He gives a shout and points, "She's coming back!" though he's sure others are already seeing her. Dashing out onto the slick, rain-slashed deck, going hand over hand along the safety ropes, the medic gets ready to grab hold of Alfred and see if the poor man needs to (most likely) be rushed to the infirmary. Arvid and Willem are there within moments, and there's shouting and some amazement that they were able to get Alfred back -- the name Solveig is mentioned.

Over the side of the ship, Cinnamon sighs a little gustily through her teeth as she realizes there are fortunately many helpful hands ready -- then she carefully lowers the limp werewolf down to the waiting men. Still clinging to the side of the ship, she watches to ensure everyone gets safely to cover -- she wants no more folks overboard! On deck, Arvid and Jareth are volunteering to help get Alfred into the infirmary. They're as careful as they can be with the injured man, but they're on the pitching deck of a ship in a storm and something is seriously wrong with the werewolf's arm -- so there is howling and clinging to ropes -- and the going is very slow.

Thorn can tell immediately that Alfred's left arm is at the very least badly dislocated. What little consciousness the wolf had been holding to has fled by now -- he's limp as Willem too moves quickly to help the others shift the injured man safely under cover in the infirmary -- Thorn knows it's far safer to care for the werewolf there instead of on the open, pitching, treacherously slick deck! This also gives him a good, warm, dry place to better diagnose Alfred. If it's just a dislocated arm, then the Havvarger are incredibly tough to survive a line parting! Thorn tries to be as soothing as he can to Alfred through at least his voice, if nothing else, when a particularly violent lurch of the ship awakens the poor werewolf again.

Once in the infirmary Thorn can tell that not only does the arm seem to have multiple fractures -- with one of them being a nasty compound fracture of the humerus -- but the shoulder seems to be badly dislocated. The medic grimaces and nods to himself upon seeing just how fractured the arm is. Speaking quickly, he explains, "This is going to be many ways of painful for him, but we need to set it first before I try to heal him. Alfred? Alfred! We're going to have to set the bone first, okay? It's going to hurt a lot, but it'll only last a little bit. Then we can get to fixing the fracture. All right?"

Arvid and Jareth are holding Alfred down. Despite being in the water for those long minutes, he's still trying to thrash and howl. Arvid's face is grim and he looks at Thorn, "Shall we knock him out?"

Thorn shakes his head, "No, that'll make things worse if he has a concussion. I need you to hold on to him while I put tension on his arm and get the bone back into place. I'll heal him as fast as I can once I do that." He looks at the absolute mess of Alfred's arm, then asks, "Do you have any fast-acting anesthetic? Some kind of painkiller that won't make things worse?"

Jareth reaches up over Thorn's head and comes back with a small bag, "Liquid. No one wants to try a needle in this weather..." Between him and Arvid, they get the drug into Alfred. It doesn't knock him out, but it does stop him thrashing. Thorn hopes they haven't made things worse for Alfred with this. He's seen what morphine withdrawal can do -- but there'll be time to address that later! The first thing to do is to carefully re-locate the shoulder without (hopefully) making the broken bones grate against each other too much.

The first attempt doesn't work the way they'd hoped. Maybe it's the motion of the ship in the storm; maybe it's that the breaks are both multiple and extremely bad. Alfred howls and tries to thrash again, but Jareth braces and holds him down. Thorn can see the wound around the compound fracture is actually looking less nasty than when they first brought the injured Havvarger down, and the medic worries that the werewolf's amazing healing abilities are starting to work their magic, so to speak -- which is actually not at all good right now! "We need to try again," he says urgently. This time he takes his time to get the joint properly back into the socket. It's grim work but it has to be done -- though unfortunately now the werewolf's own body is going to be fighting them.

Fortunately the third time seems to be the charm. Jareth braces Alfred and when the ball joint pops back into the socket he lets out an audible sigh of relief. Alfred howls sharply, but after that his eyes are barely open as he pants. Jareth looks at Thorn, having to raise his voice over the wind even belowdecks, "Do you want to heal the breaks and then fix the dislocation?" He'll shift however Thorn tells him to in order to get the correct tension for properly lining up the shattered bones.

Thorn says quickly, "It's almost done, Alfred, we just have to set the bones!" He isn't sure this will be more or less painful than the relocation of the arm, but he can't afford to give the poor werewolf time to think it over. Instead Thorn quickly points out where he wants and needs Jareth to apply pressure while Thorn and Arvid put the arm under careful tension in order to set it... and, honestly, hope that the multiple fractures settle into place without further issue. Once Arvid is applying enough pressure, Thorn can't wait anymore -- he starts visualizing Alfred's arm bones re-knitting themselves together again.

With Arvid and Jareth holding him down, Alfred fortunately can't move enough to get the bones out of alignment or re-dislocate his shoulder. Thorn can clearly see the wound out of which the humerus is protruding is actually trying to heal on its own. With the medic's particular version of magic, however, the wound closes completely... and likewise the other fractures in his ulna and radius knit together. There's still a lot of blood on his skin, of course, and there might be a scar where the compound fracture was... but a quick palpation doesn't make Alfred try to howl again and everything seems straight and whole under the skin. It's not the spectacular healing of Rafe's vocal cords, but it would look miraculous to outsiders. Thorn lets out an exhausted breath. "I think that did it," he says at last. That, he realizes, took a lot out of him! "Let's make sure he's comfortable and resting." A thought strikes him and he adds, "We're still deep in the storm, aren't we?"

The ship is still pitching and the wind is still screeching. Arvid nods grimly, "Aye, we are. But I couldn't leave him down here." He points at Jareth, "I'll leave him to help you get Alfred settled. He can't be up on deck with the drugs we had to give him. Stay with him. I'll need Jareth when you're done." He looks Thorn in the face and adds, "Thank you. And I will thank the dragon."

Thorn nods soberly, "I'm just glad I could help." He gets started on making Alfred comfortable, also keeping alert for any other incident or issue that might come up while this storm is lashing the ship with wind and rain. Once Alfred is comfortable, Jareth suddenly and without words hugs Thorn tightly. His face looks like he wants to say something but can't quite get out the words... and then he's out and back up on deck. Thorn is flat out surprised at the hug, oof!ing with its suddenness. He lets Jareth take his time to get whatever the young man needs to say out... but he doesn't impede Jareth's hasty departure either. [I wonder what that was about?] Thorn wonders as he watches Jareth leave.

Maybe two minutes after the young werewolf has departed there's a groggy voice from the infirmary rack, "Where'm I?"

Thorn comes over to the rack. "You're back aboard the Valkyrie," he answers with relief. "You were pretty badly banged up when we got you here. Can you remember what happened?"

Alfred looks bleary as he shifts -- and then groans. Being whipped around by a hawser and then thrown into the sea is going to leave anyone a little sore... even if they have had some pretty dangerous wounds healed. "Back... did I leave?" He's still sounding logy and a little confused.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" Thorn says dryly, thinking to himself, [Short-term memory loss, sounds like.] He gets a pen light and warns Alfred before checking the werewolf's iris reactions for potential concussion -- which, to be honest, wouldn't surprise Thorn in the slightest. "Briefly," he quips, "Cinnamon got you back on board. How does your arm feel?"

Much as expected, Alfred's pupils are different sizes. He blinks a bit, then squints, actually laughing for about half a second before wincing, "Aches..." He squints again, trying to remember, "Dislocated? Couldn't... what couldn't I hold onto?"

Thorn mentally grimaces, though his voice is calm, "You've got a concussion. You're mostly healed but that will take time to recover from. It looks like a line parted and carried you away with it. You're lucky you only had a few broken bones and a dislocated shoulder. But right now you need to rest without going to sleep at least for a little while longer. Do you understand?"

Alfred tries to sit up carefully -- then immediately lays back down with a groan, "Everyone else OK? Parted line... bad." He rubs his eyes with the heels of his good hand, then shakes his head in a very canine gesture -- like a dog trying to shake off water -- then clearly immediately regrets it! "Yeah. Yeah. No sleep. Rest." He looks toward the door as he adds, "Feel like I oughta be out there..."

Thorn smiles encouragingly to Alfred, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Very bad. But everyone else is okay. You'll be fine, though. You should be able to sleep soon once the aftereffects of the concussion go away... which I'll encourage you to do, since you've been through a lot." The ship is still caught in the storm, but it starts to feel like maybe the climbs up the faces and the runs down into the troughs of the waves are maybe a little less precipitous.

Alfred nods and closes his eyes, then opens them, chuckling, "Thought 'I'll just close my eyes a minute...'" His voice is still bleary and hoarse, "Which is actually shorthand for 'I'll just nap...'"

Much earlier while hoisting Alfred onto the Valkyrie, Cinnamon sighs softly at hearing the name Solveig -- she remembers Arvid mentioning they lost Solveig and the former alpha overboard in a storm. Still... this time was different -- this time she was able to do something really good! She sighs again -- wearily this time, but with relief -- and slowly, laboriously hauls herself up out of the water and over the railing. The ship creaks and lurches somewhat as she does so, causing her to scramble and flop ungracefully across the deck! She laughs tiredly, then sort of half-flops, half-swims across the slippery deck until she reaches the hatchway down to the brig -- gotta do her job! Gotta go reassure the caged wolves, right. She closes one paw-hand on a safety rope first, though, before she tries changing shape back... and mentally prays that she'll come back with her clothes on!

A heartbeat later Cinnamon gives a small, horrified -- and shocked! -- shriek as she's abruptly nude in the coldly pelting rain! She's instantly, reflexively a dragon again, as a result. She sighs, drooping a little... then decides to be pragmatic. She'll just change one more time... and if it works, great! But if not... she'll just have to borrow a blanket for the night. She sighs again, then grits her teeth. Okay... focus as she changes -- so that She. Is. Dressed! A second later she sighs again in huge relief, almost sagging as this time she comes back with all her clothes. Okay! Made it -- now to quickly dash under cover and down to the brig! She yanks the hatch open and almost tumbles through, hastily dogging it closed behind her.

Cinnamon sinks down to sit on the stairs for a moment, feeling desperately exhausted now the adrenaline is starting to ebb. She yawns hugely... then sighs and smiles as she carefully works her way down the stairs and over to the brig. Leaning against the bars, she grins sleepily, "We won! Alfred's safe. How're you guys? Still good?" She reaches through the bars to reassure Rafe again; she'd do so for Fraser but that he's snarly and upset, of course. Fraser is pacing in the cell, hackles up and tail lashing as he growls under his breath. Rafe comes to the bars and laps at Cinnamon's fingers. Apparently he can't understand most of what she said, but he gets the tone just fine.

Cinnamon sighs again, sinking down to sit with her head leaning against the bars. Her voice is slurry with weariness -- it hasn't yet occurred to her that she's still just a baby dragon when it comes to huge energy bursts! "So... where were we..." She pauses for a jaw-creakingly wide yawn, then blinks slowly, "Mm... think 'm gonna fall 'sleep soon. Won' be much good t' y' both that way, though..." Her thoughts slowly churn until an idea occurs to her, "Hmm... hey, Rafe. Would yo- oh, wait, French, right." She shifts to that tongue, asking, "Would you like to puppypile for comfort? That's what Spice, Josie, and I have done after dangerous times...?" She glances around for the keys, lifting them off the nail and checking to see Rafe's reaction as she starts to unlock the door, "Would you be okay with that, Rafael? Such a pretty name in French..."

Rafe is lolling his tongue and moves away from the door so she can get into the cell. Fraser has moved to the shared wall of bars and is growling more loudly. That actually gets a sharp bark and a little growl from Rafe as if he's telling the other wolf to behave. Cinnamon grins at that, "Okay, I'll take that as a welcome -- and thanks, dude!" She slips quickly into the cell, closing and carefully locking the cage door behind her... then sighs, adding, "Really sorry, Rafael... but I'm just knocked out right now! This is the best I can think of to still be maybe comforting, you know?" She repeats herself in English for Fraser as she moves to the back corner of the cell and sinks to the ground. "Moment..." She loops the keys around one wrist, and tucks her glasses carefully into a pocket before yawning again and curling up. Sleepily she pats the ground next to her, "Want to come puppypile and sleep?"

Fraser is still pacing, hackles hugely ruffled up. It's obviously a bad month for him... or maybe it's just a bad night with the storm. Rafe, however, simply yawns and curls around the young dragon -- he's rather large in wolf form! So is Fraser, for that matter. Cinnamon adds to Fraser, "You'd be welcome too, Mr. Fraser... but you don't seem happy about it so... maybe later?" Rafe laps at Cinnamon's ear a couple of times and then rests his chin on her head with a sigh and a wag. Cinnamon is relieved Rafe is so calm! She uses him as a soft, furry pillow, stroking his fur as she mumbles, "Feels... ni-iiice..." It takes less than five minutes for her to drift off to sleep.

Through the night the storm goes on, but belowdecks things are a little muffled. Eventually Alfred's pupils normalize and he closes his eyes for a little sleep, muttering about getting back abovedecks soon as he can. Thorn too spends the evening in the infirmary, not nodding off until the storm has abated somewhat. He wants to be available in case something else might happen. While he wants to remain alert, he finds himself nodding off now and again... which is good, in a way, since he needs to replenish the strength he lost with his previous exertions.

Fraser doesn't settle until nearly sunrise, however. Even then he shifts restlessly where he's curled up on the pile of bedding in his cell. As the sun starts to come up Rafe moves away from Cinnamon and both men start through their changes back to humanoid. Cinnamon mumbles querulously in her sleep as her pillow leaves, but she's still tired enough that she doesn't completely awaken. When Cinnamon does finally open her eyes, the first thing she actually sees is Fraser crouching by the shared wall of the two cells, grinning at her. Cinnamon blinks blearily... all she can really see is a rather reddish blur, actually! She yawns and sits up, pushing her hair out of her face before she reaches for her glasses. Once they're on she looks around curiously, wondering where she... oh! That's right -- the storm! Alfred... and then puppypiling with Rafael. And there's Fraser, right. He's wearing... not a lot. Boxers seem to be it.

Fraser shifts his body with the motion of the ship -- it's calmed down from the worst of it last night, but it's still not quite smooth sailing. Cinnamon smiles uncertainly at Fraser staring at her, then looks around for the other crewman. Rafe is sitting on the rack in the second cell, fully dressed and looking a little antsy. Fraser grins more widely as Cinnamon wakes up, rumbling in his Scottish burr, "Bet I was a right arse last night if you're in there with Rafe and not over here with me. Lucky lad, him."

Cinnamon blinks confusedly at Fraser, pushing her glasses up with one hand, "Um... well, you were snarling a lot?" She glances over at Rafe, adding in worried French, "Is something wrong? Should I not have come in here last night?"

Rafe laughs and replies in the same language, "You were fine. He's teasing you, little dragon."

Fraser is still grinning as he stands up, stretching almost languorously and then looking around for his clothes, "They'll want us on deck while the sun's up..."

Cinnamon yawns once more, then takes a deep breath -- got to wake up! She scrambles to her feet, bracing with a hand on the wall against the ship's pitching... then curiously adds in both English and French, "Why are you both still in the cells? Aren't you allowed out during the days?" She knows they must've been able to get out, using the keys she brought into the cell with her... since they're both dressed. Well... relatively, in Fraser's case. She blinks curiously at Rafe, "I... actually was wondering what was up with you? You looked... jumpy? Worried?"

Rafe's brows go up, "Last night? I don't like storms. I like them less when I am a wolf."

Fraser gets his thick sweater on and reaches for the slicker he was wearing before his transformation, "We'll be on our way up once we get the doors un... locked..." He snorts as Rafe holds up the key and goes to unlock both cells.

Cinnamon nods to Rafael -- she can understand that! She brushes down her clothing a bit, trying fruitlessly to look a little less rumpled... then follows the crewman out of the cell. She waves, speaking in both languages, "Hope your night wasn't too bad, guys. If you think my being here helped, I'm happy to come back tonight too if you want?" She grins tiredly as she adds, "For now, though... think I want a shower and food." She blinks as her stomach growls, then adds a bit sheepishly, "Er... perhaps a lot of food?" She hustles off, a bit pink with embarrassment... and wondering a bit bemusedly if the two of them remember the nights as wolves at all. That thought, however, is lost as she has to focus on carefully crossing the deck, safety rope by safety rope. The prospect of a hot shower is all that keeps her determinedly going!

It's raining heavily still, but it's not bucketing down in the blinding way it was last night. It's still not entirely pleasant to be on deck, but the safety lines have all been restrung. It might occur to Cinnamon as she moves along that a shower might not be actually available. Cinnamon sighs tiredly, wondering if there'll be any food either -- she suspects cooking might be tricky when the kitchen floor is pitching and heaving! She pauses in place for a bit... then just shakes her head and continues determinedly towards her cabin. If nothing else, she can change clothes into her nice flannel nightie, then curl up in bed and get some more comfortable sleep! She's tired and achy as well as hungry, after all.

Elsewhere, Thorn rouses himself when the morning light comes through the porthole. Since nothing else seems to have happened during the night -- particularly after he cleared Alfred to sleep -- he guesses the storm eventually ended. He does one more checkup of Alfred, and gives his recommendations to the man: lots of rest, be careful about stimuli, be aware that if he starts experiencing vertigo or nausea to stop doing whatever he's doing -- and, of course, no going aloft for several days at least! Thorn will make sure to let the captain know about that as well. Even though the werewolves can probably heal pretty quickly, he'd rather not risk Alfred on that hypothesis. Alfred actually laughs at that last bit, "Oh, that's going to be popular!"

Thorn says sternly, "A lot more popular than cleaning someone up off the deck... or going for another swim." Somewhat more gently he adds, "You're a werewolf, so you probably heal a lot faster than normal. Just give it a few days and see how you feel... if stimuli is causing you vertigo or nausea."

Alfred smiles and rubs his eyes, "Vertigo. In a storm." He's teasing. It's obvious he's feeling better.

Thorn smiles quietly, "I think you'll be fine." He does a couple more checks on his patient -- pupils, blood pressure, checking the arm -- then starts to head up onto deck, running into Arvid as the man enters the infirmary. He's come belowdecks to check on the passengers that are still down there, though he checks in with Thorn and Alfred first. His face is grim as he explains, "We're almost into the eye of the storm. We'll have a little respite then."

Thorn blinks, "The eye... then we're not out of the storm yet?" Oh, hells.

Arvid shakes his head, "No, not out. Just a breather. But it will be good -- we can check the lines and supplies, take a little time to eat... not cook, but eat. We have cold foods." The captain looks past Thorn to Alfred, rumbling to the other Havvarger, "You will stay down here today... and maybe tomorrow. You are a good healer, but you are not Rafe."

When Cinnamon gets below she discovers there is indeed hot water available, but Aisling suggests sitting on the ledge in the small shower -- or even actually on the floor. This is said with a wry smile, "I slipped. Caught myself, but it wasn't fun."

Cinnamon sighs wistfully, "A hot shower? Oh my gosh, I'll gladly sit on the floor for that!" She hastily grabs her toiletries and heads for the girls' restroom, hoping she's late enough risen that she can have the place all to herself... she'd like to steam all the aches out of her muscles! Josie and Spice aren't in the shower room. In fact, Cinnamon may have spotted them on deck as she was making her way across it. Cinnamon is almost blissful as she settles into the shower! Leaning back against one wall, she first soaps herself up, then let the hot, steaming water sluice her off. It's paradise as far as she's concerned... she almost falls asleep again, in fact!

Cinnamon finally groggily remembers, when her stomach growls more commandingly: gotta eat too! She struggles upright again, turning off the water and grinning bemusedly at her rather heat-flushed skin. Toweling off, she dresses hastily -- she finally feels warm enough again! It's very nice. Okay! Now: food! She wanders out of the restroom, sniffing and wondering what's for breakfast. She feels like she could eat a horse! Eww... better not use that euphemism around Iason! She amends hastily: a metaphorical horse! Er... no, a cow! Yeah... cows are safe.

Fortunately folks don't have to go on deck to get from the passenger quarters to the galley. Once there Cinnamon finds bread, fruit, protein bars, plastic bottles of water, and some cold cuts. Most of the crew is in the galley... minus Bjarke, Alfred, and Jareth. Cinnamon sighs a bit wistfully -- she'd been hoping for eggs and bacon, honestly -- but this will work. She smiles at everyone as she fills her pockets with bottles, fruit, and bars, then makes up some sandwiches too. She's hungry enough that she's eating a bar as she makes them, and it's not until she's stacking it all together to return to her cabin with the food that it hits her: this is a lot of food... even for her! She pauses, frowning thoughtfully... then smiles and shrugs to herself. Working hard as a dragon must use up a lot of energy, she guesses?

Thorn too makes his way to the galley to nibble on a little something before they pass out of the eye of the storm. He hopes the Havvarger are careful when they're aloft, even though they have fewer people on deck now. Arvid apologizes to the passengers about the lack of hot food, "Cooking hot things can be dangerous, even if we're passing into the eye. It can be unpredictable."

Cinnamon smiles and nods to Arvid, since her mouth is full -- but she completely understands the issue, and isn't really bothered by it now she's got some food. She pauses as the term 'eye of the storm' registers, though. Wow... so she better eat now, and have food handy for tonight when she's going to be sitting with the wolves. Well... if they want her to, that is. She's not sure sleeping on them was that reassuring for the poor things? She also glances around at her friends, hoping no one needed the many buckets Arvid had insisted be taken below. Then she blinks at another thought, swallowing her mouthful before softly asking, "Thorny? Is... is Alfred okay?"

Thorn smiles and nods to Cinnamon, "He'll be fine. He had a concussion, but he's through the worst of it." He raises his water bottle to the young dragon, "Thanks to you for going out into that muck and mess and bringing him back!"

Cinnamon blinks at Thorn... then blushes, "Oh! Oh, I, um... well, I mean, any of us would have, right? Like... if I could heal, I'd have surely done that for him if I could?"

Arvid grins at Cinnamon, "Sit, sit -- rest! You did a lot of hard work last night! You have saved one of my brothers!" Rafe speaks up, using the Germanic language all the wolves seem to have in common, and Arvid ahhs, "Yes. And you slept in with Rafe last night. It is good for us to have people around. Even when Fraser is being a griniga odjuret!"

That makes all the wolves -- including Fraser -- laugh. The Scotsman adds, "I think the storm had a bad influence on me."

Cinnamon blinks interestedly, "What's... gringa or juret?" then nods wryly to Fraser, "I think you growled all night, actually?"

Fraser snorts, "A grumpy beast. They were telling me I was snarling and pacing continuously."

The comment about sleeping in with Rafe makes Aisling grin and Shane's brows go up, but then Josie pipes up, "She's good for snuggling up with furry people. We sometimes all pile together when we stay at her house."

Cinnamon beams and nods happily at that! "Josie's very soft, too. It's nice!" She adds politely to Rafe, "You're soft too, of course. Just..." she grins shyly at her friend, "Jo's really nice and soft!" Cinnamon repeats in French, then has a gulp of water before she adds wryly, "Plus I was about to fall over from tiredness, so all I could think of that might be calming for the wolves was a puppypile. Fortunately it worked for Rafael! Though..." Cinnamon grins mischievously at Fraser, "not for Mr. Grumpy-pants here."

Rafe grins and nods. Fraser snorts, "Sadly, I am not very in my head when the change is forced. It's part of the curse."

Cinnamon smiles with unwitting sweetness at Fraser, "It's all right. If you and Rafael want, I'm happy to try and calm you both down again tonight too?" Again, she repeats herself in French for the other werewolf.

The various crewmembers reiterate that today -- at least part of today -- should be fairly calm. Rafe is happy to have Cinnamon come down again and Fraser grins, "Perhaps I won't be a grumpy beast and you can come in with me tonight." That makes Shane and Aisling both chuckle.

Cinnamon grins relaxedly at Fraser, "Only if you don't look like you'd like to bite me, dude... and if it's going to storm hard again, I'm honestly not holding my breath. But we'll see!" The first mate's possible flirtation is flying completely over her head, of course. Thorn laughs quietly at the exchanges, sitting back in his seat a little. It's a good time to let off some steam and to let their more humorous natures show... since he has no doubt it will be just as rough as last night, when they pass through the rest of the storm.

Eventually Arvid sends all of the Havvarger that can be spared to get an hour or three of sleep while they're in the eye of the storm. The captain also orders Jaeger, Aisling, Shane, Josie, Spice, and Veles to get rest: "I know that most of you are not human and don't need so much rest as humans do, but you will do better with rest." Fraser and Rafe go on deck to help with re-tightening lines and doing what repairs they can on the sheets. They, after all, got more rest and didn't have to do anything physical last night.

Willem finds Thorn and hugs the man tightly, "Thank you for healing our brother." Then he seeks out Cinnamon and hugs her as well, "Thank you for finding him in the storm. We would have mourned him badly."

Cinnamon gives a small, startled squeak at the hug, turning a little pink and patting him a bit nervously, "Oh! I, ah, I mean, it was, er, th-the flashes! The reflective flashes on your jackets, you know?" She takes a breath, then hesitantly asks, "Are, um, are... all the ropes going to be checked again before we hit the storm again? Maybe... please?"

Willem smiles and nods, "They are. We always check them. But even the best rope can let go under the kind of pressure a storm creates. We are lucky that we are tough. It is the only reason none of us has a peg leg or a hook for a hand."

Arvid, who has come close, nods, "Ja. If it had been a human, I suspect that our Alfred would be one limb down."

Cinnamon winces at that, then sighs. "Well... I'm glad he's okay now. Thank goodness Thorn's such an awesomesauce healer."

The captain looks over at Thorn, "And if not for the healer, he would have healed with crooked bones."

Thorn says, holding up his hands, "I only accelerated his healing, and straightened the bones -- which couldn't have been pleasant for him. I promise to look into a... an anesthetic spell or something to that effect in the future!"

Willem nods, "You helped, still. Alfred heals cuts and gashes quickly, and we all heal better than humans, but his arm would have been crooked at the very least. But an anaesthetic that could work on us? It would be appreciated. Rafe is near-miraculous in his healing most of the time. I suspect the spear had silver in it."

Cinnamon intends to spend the night with the wolves again, since they both seemed to think it helped... though she is a bit curious as to why Shane had looked so... surprised? Disbelieving? She's not sure precisely -- when they'd thanked her for puppypiling with Rafe. At Willem's comment, however, she blinks puzzledly, "Spear?"

Willem taps his throat, "The one that went into his throat. The one that damaged him. I think it had silver in it. Otherwise..." He shrugs, "Rafe has that for a true gift. He can heal fast enough that it can be terrifying to an opponent."

Cinnamon blinks again... then nods slowly, "So silver's bad for all werewolves?" She's hastily mentally checking that she has no silver jewelry at all -- she really doesn't want to even accidentally hurt Josie!

Willem says, "For many of us. I don't think it bothers Bjarke. Fraser has a reaction like a bad rash..." He looks across the deck at Josie, asking Cinnamon, "Does it bother your friend?"

Thorn nods thoughtfully, tucking away the information even if it's only, [Ask your doctor or werepharmacist if Silver(TM) is right for you!] Kidding aside, as a healer he'll have to be careful; it sounds like not even an allergy reaction to silver is universal amongst werewolves. He hopes he has the functional memory to hold on to what materials are inimical to whom and how! Cinnamon thinks a bit, then nods slowly, "Oh, right... Norse, not medieval European." She frowns thoughtfully, musing aloud, "I don't know, but my guess would be... no? Because she's American Indian?"

Willem nods again, "That makes sense to me. It is bad for Rafe. It is bad for Arvid. Arvid has a scar across one palm from accidentally picking up a silver dagger."

Arvid snorts, "I did not accidentally pick it up. I made the mistake of trying to grab it out of a blowhard's hand!"

Cinnamon nods interestedly, "So... what's your ethnic background then, Arvid?"

Arvid mms? and then grins widely, "I am a mutt. My father was from Sweden. My mother is from Ireland. They were both wolves."

Cinnamon thinks about that... then curiously asks, "You were born later than the medieval time period?"

Arvid nods, "Ja. I was born in the..." He looks at Willem, "I am bad with the centuries. When?"

Willem says, "I believe the 17th century." He considers a moment, then amends, "No. 18th. The 1700's."

Cinnamon says, "That's... cool, how silver got woven into the mythos! I wonder how that happened, though?"

Shane has wandered up, munching on a granola bar. He swallows and replies, "Because America has conflated a lot of different stories, and silver is precious, so they like that being the thing -- something you have to struggle to get. It would be no fun if werewolves could be killed by lead."

Cinnamon frowns thoughtfully again, "Really? That's it? But... what about the silvery tears of the moon, or the story about your soul being connected to you by a silver thread?" A bit wistfully she adds, "I mean... isn't there at least a little more poetry to it?"

Shane puts an arm around Cinnamon to give her a squeeze, "Maybe it does. I'm just being cynical." Cinnamon blushes but also beams up at Shane, momentarily speechless!

Arvid rumbles, "It is interesting to me. When Willem says Fraser gets a rash he means immediately. If silver is against Fraser's skin for a long time, it goes from a rash to a burn to a bad wound."

Willem motions Thorn over, noticing the healer's expression, "Would it help if someone made an inventory for you? Sensitivities and such?"

Jaeger has joined them by now and says, "I think Iason would be interested to know these things."

Thorn blinks and nods excitedly, "Yes, actually -- that'd be a tremendous help! And yes, I'm certain Iason -- ah, he's the healer back at Coblyn Street in Boston. He'd be fascinated and interested!"

Cinnamon nods happily, "I was going to tell him too, yeah!" She rattles off what everyone has said so far regarding the various wolf-silver reactions, then adds hopefully, "Any others that are willing to share?"

Arvid considers, sipping at an energy drink, "I will have to think. Bjarke is not sensitive to silver, but he seems to have an allergy to some type of wood... I forget which it is."

Cinnamon grins, asking teasingly, "Oak, ash, or thorn?"

Thorn tilts his head to the side. "Why one of those three?"

Cinnamon grins and shrugs, "I remember it from a story about Celtic fae -- that it was sacred or something and the druids liked those trees?"

Willem says, "Ash, I think, actually. He also has a problem with mistletoe, but I think that's more a religious thing."

"Oh!" Cinnamon looks startled, "Really? I, uh... was mostly teasing!" She thinks for a moment, then smiles shyly, "Well, we can add that to the list for Iason too, ok?"

Arvid nods and smiles, "I have heard of Iason. But it was a long time ago."

Cinnamon says, "We all live on Coblyn Street now -- like him!"

Arvid nods, "Coblyn Street has been there a very long time." He glances up at the ceiling, head cocked, and chuckles, "I am going abovedecks. Please, rest if you can. All of you."

Cinnamon nods and goes to curl up in her bed for a few hours... at least until sunset. Thorn nods and rubs the back of his neck... then goes to check on Alfred, to be sure the werewolf is all right. Thorn intends to also ask how fast Alfred normally heals, since the captain is going to want all hands on deck tonight. Alfred seems to be fine and chuckles, shaking his head, "The captain has said I'm to stay belowdecks until the storm is done." He does some range-of-motion testing as he adds, "Even though I feel fine! I think I scared him."

Thorn smiles, "Well, the captain's word is final! So I'm afraid you'll have to rest down here just in case there's any soreness or the healed fractures are still weak." He does a few more checks, mostly to ensure circulation is still going to Alfred's fingers, then heads back to the cabin to get a few hours of sleep in.

They sail through the eye of the storm for three or four hours, all of which are spent checking lines, doing repairs, and re-stowing anything that's loose. The transition back into the storm is dramatic. The sky, which was blue overhead, goes from blue to an eerie green and then into almost night-dark. The rain starts up suddenly. It's enough to remind one of the term 'the sky opened up.' Fraser and Rafe are both on deck for the first part of this since it's technically still daytime. At one point, in fact, there's a gleeful howl that carries even over the roaring of the waves, the rain, and the wind. That wakes Cinnamon up! She sits up abruptly, listening carefully... then grins wryly as she realizes the wolves are having fun. Still... probably time to get up and get ready to keep the two wolves company tonight.

Thorn is awakened, though sluggishly, by the howl. He sits up, stifling a yawn. Well, someone's enjoying themselves! He smiles wryly and stretches somewhat before looking outside. Wow... that's some serious weather. He puts his shoes on and heads up to the main deck, though not outside, to see if anyone needs any help.

On deck it's hard to see more than two or three feet beyond your own face. If anything, the rain is even thicker on this side of the eye. A heavy body slips past Thorn and the healer has time to realize it must be Bjarke just based on the size, before the form is lost in the rain. Thorn quickly decides to stay out of everyone's way! In fact, he goes back belowdecks -- he feels singularly unsuited to working in this weather, unlike the Sea Wolves! He'll remain close to the infirmary. Alfred is irritable and anxious when Thorn enters the infirmary, but he apologizes after verbally snapping at Thorn: "I dislike being relegated belowdecks when my brothers are up there." He snorts because there's another howl, "I bet you ten dollars that's Fraser."

Thorn smiles quietly. "I won't take that bet, you're probably right! I know you don't like being here, but think of it this way: If the captain needs you because, gods forbid, something bad happens, he'll know exactly where to find you and get you to help."

Cinnamon is extra cautious tonight -- she doesn't want to cause problems for anyone else while crossing the deck! She works her way, rope by rope, to the hatchway down to the brig slightly before sunset... though the storm makes it almost dark as night already. She hears the second howl as well, but from much, much closer. A moment later, Fraser appears out of the storm, grinning broadly and eyes gleaming. Cinnamon giggles, calling, "Hi, Fraser!" She doesn't wave, though -- she's still clinging to lines as she works her way cautiously to the hatchway.

Fraser laughs and his eyes flash -- they're definitely not the color they were when she first met him! He moves in close and grins down at Cinnamon, not quite blocking her way down into the hatchway, "You're staying with us again tonight?"

Cinnamon says, "Um... if you guys want? Did it help?" She's focusing more on working her way across the deck than on the werewolf, and she absently adds, "Could you open the hatchway, please?" Between the thunder, the slippery deck, and the driving rain, she's almost entirely focused on simply making it safely back belowdecks to the brig!

Fraser is way, way too close for polite company by now -- almost looming, and grinning widely, "Oh, yes, I think we'd both like that. I know I would." His teeth gleam as he moves to open the hatchway. The moment it's open he's got an arm around Cinnamon and is 'assisting' her down the stairway. He's damned near carrying her.

Cinnamon squeaks startledly, grabbing at the handrail with both hands as she's almost hoisted through the hatch! "Eep! I got it -- c-careful!"

Fraser laughs and almost slides down the ladderway, then holds his hands up, "Let me help. I've got better sea legs than you do." He's soaked and not wearing a hat, but it's obvious that his beard and hair are thicker again, and his teeth are a little more prominent.

Cinnamon is still clinging to the handrail and a little wobbly... but her eyes narrow as she stares at the wolfish looking man. Slowly she says, "Are you... going to be nice? Or are you going to be grabby?"

Fraser is still grinning as he rumbles, "Who says they're mutually exclusive?" He doesn't seem to be irritable and growly, though... or at least not at the moment.

Cinnamon says firmly, "I do." Carefully starting down the stairs, she adds, "Plus I... I need the experience or I'll never get sea legs myself, right?" She hmfs quietly to herself. She's seen grabby guys around women before, though never around her. Frankly, she thinks being a wolf is not helping Fraser's eyesight any!

Fraser takes a step or two back, giving her enough room to get down the ladderway on her own, "This is an extenuating circumstance, lass!"

Cinnamon nods firmly, "That it is -- and I need to do my best to learn in it!" She's careful to keep hold of the railing in order to keep her balance, though she's a bit concerned about how she's going to safely weave her way through the boxes and crates to the brig -- no handrails there!

Just at the moment Cinnamon lets go of the handrail, the ship pitches due to an unfortunate coming-together of a wave and the wind. Fraser stays quite solidly on his feet, but Cinnamon -- despite having pretty good sea legs for a lubber -- is knocked completely off balance and directly against Fraser, who wraps his arms around her snugly and actually growls softly, "See. Should have let me help you down!"

Cinnamon yipes! -then whews! "Wow, thanks for the catch, Fraser." She straightens, bracing herself against a crate -- or tries to, at least. It simply doesn't occur to her that the man holding her might not release when she wants!

Indeed, Fraser doesn't immediately let her go, "Oh, it was my pleasure, lass." He leans in and breathes in deeply, "Ah. You got to have a hot bath while we were in the eye, didn't you? Isn't that lovely?"

Cinnamon blinks startledly, leaning back hard against the wolf's encircling arms, "Fraser, what are you doing? Let go, please?"

Fraser chuckles. His teeth are definitely longer and sharper, "Why, making sure you're steady on your pins before letting go of you. Wouldn't want you getting hurt now, would we?" His hands aren't roaming, but he's still got a solid hold on her.

Cinnamon is silent and still for a moment, thinking hard. She's... a little uncomfortable, actually -- she doesn't want Fraser clinging to her like this. This is... not right, she thinks! For a heartbeat Cinnamon is frightened -- why is Fraser acting this way?! But then... something inside her kindles as she remembers: she is a dragon! She has rescued people because she was strong -- and she can be strong here and now too! She takes a deep breath, then says firmly, "Fraser, let me go, please. Now." This, she decides, is it -- if he doesn't let go, she's going to have to insist!

There's a moment where it really and truly seems to be uncertain that he actually will let go of her... but then Fraser's nostrils flare and his grip loosens. It's the moment immediately after she has that realization that she is strong; that moment where there's no fear in her -- and she could get out of his grip easily if she wanted. Cinnamon doesn't realize it, but there's a growl low in her voice as she adds, "Let go, Fraser. Back. Off!"

He does finally back off, releasing Cinnamon and holding his hands up and palms out at shoulder level. His amber eyes are still gleaming, "Yes'm." Just about then, there's more footsteps on the ladderway.

Cinnamon says calmly, "Thank you," and proceeds on her careful way to the brig. She can feel her heart almost racing, though -- that was quite astonishing to her! For a moment there she felt... almost powerful! It's vaguely intoxicating to think that maybe, just maybe... she might be able to take care of herself just fine!

When Cinnamon gets past, she hears a voice snapping something in the proto-Germanic tongue the wolves use. There are a couple of growls, but then Rafe moves past Fraser and asks Cinnamon if she's OK. The young dragon glances up and smiles sunnily at Rafe, answering him in the same French with which he's speaking to her, "Just fine! How're you feeling? It's almost sunset, right?" Apologetically she adds, "Sorry I'm being slow -- I didn't want to knock anything over by accident."

Rafe shakes off any growling and says, "Be slow if you need to! After all, the pair of us have to get undressed." He repeats himself in the Germanic tongue so the Scots wolf can understand as well.

Fraser, despite the snarling and the sharp words from Cinnamon, cheerfully adds, "You can come along while we do if you want, lass!"

Cinnamon is still focused on moving carefully between the ship's lurching, so her voice is a bit absent, "No thank you." She can't help the small smile to herself as she does so, though... because she's somewhat sure she recognized a word Rafe just used to Fraser! Did he just call the first mate something like... idiot or asshole?!

There's another short exchange between the wolves and Fraser almost flows down the passageway and into the brig. Rafe gives Cinnamon a smile and lets her know he will give a howl when they're done getting undressed. Cinnamon beams at the werewolf, "Merci!" then curiously adds, "Do you lock yourselves in, or should I?"

Rafe says, "I'll lock him in. He's... not himself... and then you can lock me in. Put the keys somewhere safe."

Cinnamon nods cheerfully, "Okay!" Shortly thereafter Rafe gives a quick howl to let Cinnamon know they're ready. It's followed by another longer, almost eerie howl that's heard across the whole ship. Cinnamon grins, guessing that's Fraser. She calls back, "Be right there!" and moves more quickly to the brig, so she can lock Rafe in the way he wanted. She's curious as to how the two wolves will react to her tonight, too. Will they both still be riled up and restless, or more used to her now?

In the brig, Fraser isn't completely changed yet, but he is far closer to wolf than human... even if he's still bipedal. His hands -- forepaws? -- are holding the bars of his cell and his tongue is lolling in a canine grin as his eyes follow Cinnamon. It's not the pacing and growling of the previous night, but it's still not like the Fraser they've gotten to know over the last week or so. Rafe is in the other cell, already completely transformed -- and he growls low in his throat when it looks like Fraser might try to reach out for Cinnamon through the bars.

Cinnamon moves around the brig as far out of reach of Fraser as she can, then takes the keys Rafe has kindly left her just outside his door. Perhaps interestingly, her dodge of Fraser is less as if being fearful, and far more like someone who's simply avoiding something unwanted or unnecessary. "Hi, guys!" She carefully locks Rafe's door too, then settles down outside the more wolf-like man's cage as she shrugs out of her backpack, "I planned ahead tonight -- brought a pillow and a blanket for just in case. So, would you guys like stories or songs or... would you two like to sing instead of me, or... what'd be most calming for you both?"

The dodge makes Fraser loll his tongue, and the sound he makes does sort of seem like how a wolf laughing might sound. Rafe growls again and Fraser backs up from the bars -- just as his body arches; he growls. What's happening both looks and sounds painful! At the end of it he's fully lupine, his eyes almost riveted on Cinnamon. Rafe moves as if to keep his body between his packmate and the little dragon. Cinnamon adds in almost teasing amusement to Rafe -- and, as always, repeating her words in both English and French, so no one is left out, "Well, at least Fraser isn't being Snappy McGrumpypants tonight!" She giggles, then adds more seriously to Fraser, "Not that the change looks at all comfortable... you have my sympathies on that one, totally!"

Fraser's eyes are gleaming and he's pacing again, but this time there's no snarling. He's just as close to the shared wall of bars as he can be. Rafe lolls his tongue and gives another soft growl at Fraser... though Rafe himself seems pretty relaxed. Cinnamon reaches through the bars and gently strokes Rafe's soft head fur, if he'll let her, "It's okay, Mr. Rafael... Fraser's safe and sound there. You don't have to worry, really!"

Cinnamon glances up at the roar of thunder, holding onto one of the bars to keep herself from being pitched around as she adds, "Though it looks like we've got plenty of other stuff to potentially worry about!" She thinks for a moment, then shakes her head firmly, "Nope, not gonna worry about the storm! We've got good folks out there doing the best they can, right? So... all we have to do is let them do their job, and we'll do ours." She grins cheerfully at the wolves as she adds, "Which is just to stay calm -- easy peasy! Here, I'll sing you a song, okay? This is one Spice taught me..." She sings slowly and a bit hesitantly, calling the tune and words back to mind as she does so. Admittedly the song is (in Spice's words), "fucking righteously feminist, which you need more of, girl!" -- but Cinnamon's pretty sure Rafe can't understand the English words, and Fraser likely isn't completely sapient just now either!

Rafe settles in against the wall of bars closest to Cinnamon -- close enough that his fur fluffs out between the bars. He wags his tail, thumping it slowly against the floor as Cinnamon sings and pets. It's the best he can do to let her know she's welcome to come puppy pile again. Fraser keeps pacing for a while and then settles in out of arm's reach and lunge reach. Cinnamon sings and talks to the wolves for a while, and rubs Rafe's ears and fur if he doesn't seem to mind. After a long while, however, with no snarling or pacing from Fraser, she says thoughtfully, "You know, Fraser... if you're going to be polite then I'm happy to rub your fur too?"

Rafe raises his head alertly and goes still, staring aggressively at his packmate as Fraser lolls his tongue and starts moving toward the bars closest to Cinnamon. Rafe growls, warning Fraser back from the dragon -- it's clear the French werewolf doesn't trust the cursed Scotsman. Cinnamon says gently, "Rafe, be nice! We should at least give him a chance, don't you think? Here..." She scoots over so she's seated nearer to the barrier between the two cages, and lets just her fingertips reach through the bars, "Lie down here, Fraser, okay? That way I can reach your fur." She figures if he's going to snap at her, she should be able to get her fingertips out of the way pretty quickly, after all!

Rafe settles in next to Cinnamon, keeping his eyes on Fraser, who pads in close. He gives her fingers a wet slurp and then takes her fingers in his muzzle, though he's not biting. Cinnamon grins encouragingly, "There, that's not so hard, is it? So, lie down and I'll rub your fur too, okay?" She pulls her hand back slowly -- she doesn't want to encourage a snap, after all. Fraser doesn't snap, but he tightens his grip for a moment before letting go -- then settles down with his muzzle protruding from between the bars, and closes his eyes. Cinnamon gives Fraser an amused glance but doesn't say anything when the wolf releases -- at least he's learned that lesson, she thinks! She reaches in to gently rub the Scots' werewolf's fur and ears, and goes back to telling simple stories and occasionally singing -- all in a calm, relaxed, soothing (or so she hopes) voice. Elias did say she took after many-greats Liam, after all, right? So... maybe her voice will be nice for the poor wolves too?

Overhead and beneath them, the storm rages on. In this little den, Cinnamon seems to have soothed the savage beasts. She sighs happily -- she feels very useful tonight! Well, she reminds herself firmly, she was quite useful last night too, what with rescuing Alfred. That thought reminds her that it's getting late, and she finds herself yawning... which makes her grin, "Okay, I think I'm going to get things ready to puppypile now, guys, so I'm not stumbling around sleepily and accidentally hurting myself later. Give me just a moment!" She gathers up her things and the keys, then repeats her actions of the previous night: she slides into Rafe's cage, latches it firmly, then loops the keys carefully over one wrist. After that she glances around thoughtfully, then smiles, "If you're going to continue being nice, Fraser, we could curl up next to the bars by you too. Would you like that?"

Rafe keeps a close eye on Fraser and relaxes when the Scots wolf curls up with his back to the bars. It makes him close enough to pet but puts the dangerous parts of him in the opposite direction. Cinnamon nods in satisfaction, "Excellent! OK, let's settle down together then." She curls up by the bars with Rafe, tucking her blanket around herself to stay warm, and using her pillow instead of Rafe's side. As she amusedly notes to him, "Having a pillow means you don't have to worry about not waking me up tomorrow morning when you want to get up!" After that she happily reaches through the bars with one hand, so she can gently stroke the fur of both wolves as she sings and chatters relaxedly to them.

Fraser behaves himself quite nicely through the night, though Cinnamon probably hears a few growls in the night as if Rafe is making sure Fraser is behaving. Cinnamon grins at that, as she slowly fades a bit through the night while trying to stay awake as long as she can for the two wolves. Eventually, though, she slides relaxedly down so she's lying on the floor between the two wolves -- and the bars of the cage -- and sleepily bids them both a good night.

There are no portholes in the brig so there's no chance to see the sun rising. The ship is still caught in the storm, though, as is evident by the fact that it's still pitching and rolling. Still, there's something that makes it obvious it's dawn. When Cinnamon opens her eyes, Rafe is still solidly asleep and still lupine. Cinnamon yawns and stretches slowly as she awakens, glancing around blearily and smiling as she pets Rafe -- he's close enough for her to recognize even without her glasses on. There's a big reddish blur nearby which she guesses is Fraser, so as she fumbles for her glasses she says with sleepy cheer, "Good morning, Fraser!"

Fraser, however... Fraser is awake and back to human shape. He's sitting tailor fashion and watching Cinnamon closely. He's also completely and utterly nude. When she turns her head and realizes he's not wearing a stitch of clothes, her eyes widen in shock -- and then she whips her head around with an embarrassed squeak! She hastily grabs up her pillow and blanket, heading for the door of Rafe's cell as she almost gabbles, "Well! Gotta go thanks for being nice talk to you all later!" She intends to drop the keys by Rafe's door -- then almost flee down the passageway!

Fraser stands up, chuckling as Cinnamon goes pink and starts gabbling. Before she leaves he tries to catch her attention, "My clothes! They're over there!" He points to a shelf outside the cells, "Can I have them before you leave?"

Cinnamon blinks startledly at Fraser -- then blinks again at where Rafe is snorting softly as he's abruptly awakened. She wavers for a heartbeat... and then her usual kindness kicks in. "Um... o-okay." She trots over to the shelf, grabs up all the clothes, and almost tosses them over to land at the foot of the bars, "There you go gotta go now!" He can reach through to pull them into the cage, after all -- and she seriously wants out of here now! She's also abruptly hugely relieved that Fraser wasn't on deck last night... when she was struggling to re-manifest her clothing! That would have been totally mortifying!

Fraser is, even in human form, quite a fuzzy person. Dark red curly hair covers his chest and thins out slightly on his stomach, only to thicken again... lower. He's also built like you'd expect a very active sailor to be. He grins as Cinnamon scampers out rather adorably, calling after her, "Thank you, ion-mholaidh!" It's followed with a cheerful laugh as he reaches through the bars and gets his underwear and pants on first. Rafe opens one amber eye and glares at the first mate, making Fraser say, "I didn't bite her! I didn't even snap!"

Even as she's scrambling hastily up onto the deck, Cinnamon wonders what Fraser just called her... well, she can ask someone else later. Right now -- yikes! Right now she needs to duck back into belowdecks, repack her backpack, and only then try crossing the slick, wind- and rain-lashed deck! It takes her a bit, of course, but once she's had a moment to catch her breath and let the blush fade she's just as careful as usual when crossing to the cabins. Fortunately the storm has slackened somewhat and she gets her things packed up fairly easily, without dropping anything. She can tell the storm is lessening simply because she can now see several feet in front of her as she uses the lifelines to get back to the passenger cabins.

Cinnamon is dripping wet despite her best efforts, even her glasses badly rain-spotted. She finds Aisling in the cabin, toweling off. The sidhe is looking a little wan. Gasping at the respite from the wind, the young dragon nearly pants, "H-hi, Aisling, how're you?!" She sheds her outer gear in a wet lump, then dries her glasses on a nearby towel -- she doesn't realize it's the one Aisling is using! Peering through the lenses to see how they are, she blinks, "Wow... are you okay, Aisling? You look... kinda pale?"

Aisling laughs a little, "Tired. I keep getting sent back belowdecks. I'm fit, but I'm not fit like Shane or Veles." She looks Cinnamon over, head tipped, "Are you OK?"

Cinnamon nods vigorously, "Yes! All soppy wet but no damage!" She grins apologetically, "Let me get these wet things out of here..." She hangs them up to dry, then peels out of everything wet she can so as to pull on her nice warm robe, "I think a hot shower like yours sounds awesome!" Pausing, she adds, "Aisling? Do you want me to bring you anything? Or... there's still water and food in my backpack? And... I can be real quiet when I come back if you just want to sleep -- 'cause that's what I want too, honestly?" Then she wryly adds, "Well... that and no Fraser. He's... weird right now!"

Aisling sits on her bunk and starts brushing her hair out with a small smile, then chuckles. "What I'm hearing is 'Fraser has been acting like he's got no filters.' He's been flirting a little aggressively. That's not always bad. He's quite handsome. He backed off when I pushed back -- physically or verbally -- but I think he's enjoying the reactions. I get the feeling he's not usually allowed abovedecks on the full moon if they have human females onboard."

Cinnamon hastily shrugs into her robe and warm unicorn-plushy slippers as she replies a bit tartly, "I can see why! He stares all the time... makes me feel like Little Red Riding Hood sometimes!" Considering, she adds thoughtfully, "Hey, Aisling, do you know... what is it... Scottish, I guess? Like... do you know what 'yon molaid' means?"

Aisling smiles, "You're not used to being looked at by someone that's thinking you might be fun to take to bed. You do know that Little Red Riding Hood is all about sex, right?" She laughs warmly as Cinnamon sounds the word out, "He called you adorable or cutie."

Cinnamon wrinkles her nose at that, "Aisling, he looks like he'd like to eat you -- not like... like he'd like to play or anything!" She sighs amusedly, "Well... at least he didn't call me dinner or snackies, I guess!" As she heads out the door for the shower, she adds darkly, "I think he's being naked deliberately at me, too -- just to make me blush! Meanie."

Aisling pauses in brushing her hair, "He does want to eat you in a way, sweetie. But not ingest you..." She pauses and then laughs, eyes shining, "Oh, my. Is he as yummy looking as I think he is?"

Cinnamon grouses a grumpy, "No!" over her shoulder as she nearly stomps out! She's scowling as she marches towards the restroom. She thinks he's not being yummy so much as doing things he knows she doesn't like! That, she firmly decides, qualifies him as a meanie in her book... even if he does just do it during the full moon, darnit! Also, she decides just as firmly when passing a mirror, she is not pouting!

Cinnamon enjoys her hot shower enormously -- it's long and steamy enough that her grump-funk wears off. After that she's quiet while sliding back into the cabin, in case Aisling is sleeping -- which, as it turns out, the tired sidhe is indeed doing. It doesn't take the young dragon long to also be curled contentedly up under her covers. After eating a few pieces of fruit, she too drifts off to well-deserved sleep.

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Last modified: 2019-Jun-12 19:53:32

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