Furry-Within

Willem opened the door and went back to the other end of the room, rummaging through a large crate and muttering to himself. It was mostly gibberish, but there was clearly something about the Captain in there.

Finally he stood again, turning and handing her a tarnished old flint lock pistol, by the barrel, the handle pointed toward her. "Let me implore to you, lad, the importance of this machine in my hand." He pushed it toward her "a gun, is death in yer hand . . ." he looked side to side like he thought someone else might hear them. "And there's nothing more important than understandin that. Never point that at me, the Captain, or t' others, and gods forbid you even NEED it on this trip."

He pushed past her "once we make land we'll see about gettin' ye some powder and shot too, can't believe that rat bastard is givin a damned boy a gun and expectin' nothin' wrong ta happen." He scoffed and slammed the door open, walking out, grumbling again.

It seemed that Willem was rather unhappy with this new development-- he probably thought she was an incompetent whelp that couldn't handle a firearm. He'd be surprised, though.

She watched as the big guy rummaged around in a crate and came back with the most abused pistol she'd ever seen... Oh boy.

She nodded at him, "This isn't my first time with a weapon, sir," she said, taking the old, battered thing from him and stuffing it into the waistband of her trousers, into the small of her back where it would most likely go unnoticed on her small frame. The metal was cold and heavy against her skin, unlike the feel of the dagger, she didn't like the way this felt. She reminded herself to get a holster for it, or something... "I understand, Willem. I really do.."

Before she could even think to ask him another question or respond to his remarks about the Captain being a 'rat bastard' he slammed the door and Kar was left there with nothing but her thoughts.

With a shrug she adjusted her tunic top and belt, finagling the weapon to sit more comfortable and remain hidden.

She couldn't even begin to shake this feeling of dread as she trudged back to her cabin, making sure to avoid her crewmates, like that was even an issue...

The ship had an uneasy silence for the last day, everyone could feel it. The entire crew was unsettled about something. When one was quiet and listened, especially at lower decks, it was possible to hear it.

The sound started as a creaking, like any other moment on a ship settling in the calm on the open sea. But, as one listened for it, or as the silence settled on the ship, it grew, slowly, almost imperceptibly, until the "creaking" was clearly not wood, or steel, it was organic. Something in the ship was speaking . . . somewhere, deep down, hidden in shadow and behind something. But the sound was there, and each hour the ship got closer to it's unknown destination, the sound got slowly and unsettlingly louder."

The atmosphere on this vessel was almost smothering her. The dragoness gently tugged at the neck of her tunic. Oddly enough, the rest of the crew seemed to  sense their "impending doom", so to speak.

Kar had spent some time on boats before, obviously not ones of this caliber, but something was honestly off with the way this one moved and sounded. She still had a hunch it had something to do with their "cargo", but, unfortunately she had to keep her head down.

Out of sight.

Out of mind.

Those six words became a personal mantra to her and she'd catch herself muttering it frequently.

Continuing on with her chores, Kar repeatedly tried to keep the "voices" out of her head. The groaning and creaking of the ship below almost... nah, couldn't be? Too long and hit sea had fried her brain.

She stuffed her brush back into her bucket and made haste back to her quarters. A quick meal and then lights out. But... that noise?

Of course, she knew better, but she had a way of finding herself in places she shouldn't be. The mystery too good to pass up. The unknown needing to be pulled into the light. Those voices couldn't possibly be the "cargo"?

And that's how she found herself making her way to the lower decks...

Everyone was getting more and more unsettled as the days continued. Words would die on one's tongue when he wanted to speak to someone, men would look at each other, silently, then look away, unsettled at each creak.

People were startled by every minor motion and sound of the ship creaking or settling. People seemed to ignore Kar even more than usual, almost as much as they seemed to ignore one another, avoiding each other and trying to get things done quickly and quietly.

Meals more and more became quick affairs, the crewmembers trying to get through things and get away. Men began sleeping on higher decks, even up on top deck. Under the stairs, in the shade under sails, even out in the open. Anything to get away from the lower levels. Away from the sound . . . The captain, however, remained different. He was barely ever seen, and if he was, it was briefly, and he was even more silent than usual, as hard as it might be to believe.

When Kar got down to the lower decks, there was no sign of man, a thick layer of dust had settled on things, as no one had been around to clean in days, things had moved out of their normal place from the motion of the ship, no one there to right them. And the creaking, whining was getting louder. The sconces were almost all out.

However, there was light in the cargo space, the massive lowest deck at the bottom of the vessel. Where the box was.

There was a voice echoing through the halls too, over the creaking, a voice, clearly a man's voice, deep and strong, the words were almost all impossible to discern. Only a few could be told. "Soon now . . . . old Broad . . . . shallows . . . . sacrifice.

There was a feeling at the last word, like a silent, invisible bolt shot across the ship, the wood shook and Kar's body vibrated with it. Only once, so quick if you blinked you'd miss it, or even think it was a swell in the sea.