Open Mettle

[Griblo Jankweed]

Griblo took Brasseye’s reluctant concession with an easy nod, his posture loosening just enough to suggest agreement rather than victory. He didn’t crowd the quartermaster, but he did step a little closer, peering at the clipboard with casual interest, tail giving a slow, thoughtful flick.

"Aye, that sounds fair ‘n’ square," he said lightly. "Didn’t mean t’ step on yer toes. Jes’ doin’ what I’m meant ta', same as you."

He glanced down the rows of crates, then back to Brasseye, voice dropping into something more companionable.

"Next time ye do a full count like that, give me a whistle, aye?" he added. "I’m purser, after all. Numbers work best when we’re lookin’ at the same page."

A crooked grin tugged at his muzzle.

"Else I’ll just come aroun' openin' doors again," he chuckled. "An’ we both know that ain’t ideal."

With that, he leaned back against a crate, clearly settling in rather than preparing to leave, eyes already drifting back to the stores as if this shared space were now simply… a given.

 

[Freya McFjorl]

Surprise overtook the Lynx's features as she noticed Calara stretch then gaze skyward, focusing on her position in the crows nest with sudden intensity. As her wave and salute followed, Freya felt a blaze of pride warm her chest. It could only bode well for the voyage ahead.

Then came the call out and suddenly she was higher than the mast could ever hope to place her. On the little boats, there was no need for such acknowledgements; It slowed things down, if anything, and everybeast already knew the other. But on these sorts of Ships of the Line, with hundreds of crew, it was like she'd personally gone and shook her paw among the throng of beasts working around her.

Soaring higher than a missertross gull, a rare, true smile slid onto her lips and she turned back to her duties with a renewed vigor.