Expedition Private Side Adventure The Urk Expedition: Breathing Room

[FinnianBrightfur]

( A character exposition thread, taking place the night of the events in Waterlogged, and before the shore party leaves. )

"Tell ya what, let's get settled in, and I can tell you a story or two."

"Ugh, I'm not a kit, Morgan!"

With a sharp breath, Finn sat up in his bunk. A glance at Morgan's hammock told him what he already knew -- it was painfully empty. Hoping against hope, the foxkit rubbed his eyes in denial, and checked again. Still empty. Just that morning, he'd been sheltering by her side against the cold wind. Now she was in the infirmary, fighting to breathe.

Morgan gave everyone quite a fright when she came in: half drowned, half frozen, and coughing up blood. Finn didn't even recognize her at first. It was touch and go for a while, until Barrett managed to drain her lung. Then, she seemed to recover in the afternoon -- making gallows humor of the situation in typical fashion. As the evening wore on, however, Morgan's condition worsened.

Arthur said her chest was filling with fluid, and not draining properly. Finn had a hard time visualizing the mechanics of what was happening internally. On the other hand, watching the ferrett struggle to suck down air as if she'd just run a marathon was an image he couldn't easily put out of his mind.

But Talinn had commanded a shore party to leave this morning, and had sent everyone off to make preparations -- Finn included. Finn knew better than to argue with the captain, but prying him away from the infirmary was difficult. Arthur eventually kicked him out, and ordered him to go to bed.

"We've done all we can for her, Finn. No use staying here. You need to get some rest."

Finn was powerless to argue, and being sent off to bed like a little kit sent him into an impotent fury.

Fat lot of good that does for me. How'm I supposed to take a nap like this? I'll come back from the shore party, and she'll be... -- Finn silenced the thought before it completed.

Unable to bear looking at the empty hammock any longer, Finn rolled out of his bunk and pulled on his uniform. He hesitated for a moment, before reaching into Morgan's hammock to fetch her jacket. Pulling it over his shoulders, the kit crept quietly towards the ship's deck, and climbed upwards into the night.

A frigid gust of wind bit at his ears, and drove him to huddle beneath the collar of Morgan's jacket. Past midnight, the ship was eerily quiet, with only a sliver of moon to provide light. Though Finn was technically disobeying orders, it wasn't like there was a general curfiew. The third watch wouldn't think anything seeing him up this late, much less send him back to bed.

Sitting along the gunnel, Finn leaned on the railing to watch the small dots of firelight ashore dance against the starlit sky. He cursed the shrews quietly, but his futile words were swept away by uncaring winds. The shoreline blurred, and Finn tucked his head under his elbow in grief.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail trod slowly alone on deck, his paws light against the chilled planks. The wind teased at his fur, catching the edges of his tunic and tugging playfully at his ears. He didn’t mind the cold. It was familiar, and right now, that counted for something.

His hammock felt oppressive tonight. Like the weight of everything was pressing down on him, with no warmth or comfort to be found. He’d tried. Gods knew he’d tried. He tried curling up tight, tuning out the world with the rhythm of the ship. But every creak of timber or distant voice tugged him back into the mess of his thoughts. Wounded beasts. Freezing seawater. The pressure gauge ticking high. And the eyes of his crew mates, wide and shellshocked in the lamplight.

It should’ve been just another hard day, but something about it dragged deeper, like hooks through old scars. He could still feel the roar of flame in his ears, the crack of timber splitting under strain. The stink of burning rope. Three seasons gone...

The night crew moved about their duties with hushed voices and practiced motions. Swifttail stood to the side, letting their rhythm wash over him. The soft murmur of ropes and creaking spars, the breath of the sea and sky, the shifting shimmer of starlight. It was something close to peace.

A small shape huddled by the gunnel suddenly caught his eye, still as stone. Swifttail’s ears twitched. He squinted, then recognized the curl of a russet tail, the hunch of narrow shoulders beneath a jacket far too big.

Morgan’s jacket.

His breath caught for a moment.

Padding softly forward, he settled onto the deck beside the kit. Not close enough to crowd. Just enough to share the silence. He folded his arms into his sleeves and rested them on his knees, letting the moment stretch between them like the space between stars.

After a quiet beat, he spoke.

“Couldn't sleep either?”

@FinnianBrightfur

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

With his head tucked under his forearm, the world seemed to disappear. The rhythmic sounds of the ship were soothing -- and if it weren't for the cold, he might have even been able to fall asleep here. He was certainly tired enough to warrant an improvised nap. The morning had started around six, and Finn had worked up until seven or eight that evening. Dinner was scavenged on the go. (Did he even eat lunch? He didn't remember...)

As the sound of footsteps approached, his dark eartips swiveled around behind to listen to the interloper. No, they weren't just passing by -- he could feel the subtle vibrations in the decking drawing near. Finn didn't want to move, but he got the distinct feeling someone was coming to check on him. Ugh, and he was in such a pathetic state, too. Couldn't they go somewhere else? Finn didn't want to be coddled. He didn't need to be.

The foxkit picked his head up, and quickly covered his face with his paws, scrubbing at his eyes as if to rub sleep from them. "Mmfirthisho..." he grumbled. Gates, he was tired. Even he didn't know what he'd meant to say, it just came out as a jumble of syllables.

His ears distinctly perked as he heard Swift's voice. In a heartbeat, Finn went from wishing they'd go, to hoping he'd stay. It was the first time someone had given him an ounce of regard that day, or so his youthfulness had convinced him.

Finn knew that Ralynn hadn't meant to ignore him, it was merely a limitation of his stature and position. Barret however, had sent him off to bed like a kit. What, did he think I can't handle it? In contrast, there was a certain unspoken dignity Swifttail had given him just in the way he sat down. He didn't try to fix things right away, or address the elephant in the room. He just sat there quietly.

"Yeah..." he tried to reply, but the invisible hand of sorrow had crushed his throat. Finn huffed and gasped, and shook his head. It was all he could manage. Turning into Swift, he buried his face in the fox's neck, and wept.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail's body shifted naturally to meet the weight, letting Finn tuck himself into the curve of his shoulder. The fur at his neck dampened almost instantly, but he didn’t move to brush it away. Instead, he eased a paw around Finn’s back, holding him there with quiet intent.

The sobs came hard and raw, like the sea itself, and Swifttail just let them. He sat steady and still, tail wrapped lightly around his legs, ears tilted forward to listen. He didn’t offer platitudes or try to hush the sound. Only when the crying began to slow, when it ebbed into ragged little gasps, did Swifttail speak. His voice was soft, and a little gravelly from the cold.

“That was a hard one, wasn’t it?”

He let the words settle for a moment, giving them room.

“You did good today, even if no one said it. A lot of weight to carry. ‘Specially on your own.”

A beat of silence. The ship groaned gently beneath them.

Then, with a soft flick of his tail, Swifttail tilted his head just slightly and added, “You know… if you fall asleep like this, I’m gonna have to explain to somebeast why I’ve got a foxcub for a scarf.”

He glanced down at Finn with the ghost of a smile. Soft and gentle. Just enough to show he meant it.

@FinnianBrightfur

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn clung to Swift, and the world disappeared entirely for but a minute. The older fox drew his sorrows out like poison from a wound, and his kind words bound him back together like a salve infused bandage.

The kit quietly considered his words. Most of his sorrow had been for Morgan, or so he'd thought. But a good deal of it came from feeling so powerless to do anything to help.

"She's gonna be alright, won't she?"

"...she's got a hard night ahead of her, Finn."

Finn hated the ambiguity. He hated not being able to do anything. He hated the shrews. The sadness had ebbed away to a dull ache in his throat, but a simmering anger had replaced it. The wonderful humor fell on deaf ears, which was a shame -- and Finn didn't even have the wherewithal to thank Swifttail for his kindness.

Drawing away, the kit wiped his face off on his shirt, and drew a shaky breath. "Mr. Barrett isn't sure Morgan's gonna make it..." he said, his voice tightening. "Those shrews shot her with an arrow, and... I don't know. Barrett said it was like she was drowning. The blood and stuff keeps getting sucked back in through the hole."

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail said nothing at first. He watched the stars above the mastlines with a faraway look. Morgan’s wound. He hadn't seen her since it happened, but from Finn's description, it seemed dire.

He’d seen beasts die. Some slow. Some sudden. But in those cases, they felt like they were fated and he had grown numb in is acceptance of the dispair. But this… this felt different. This wasn’t the sea being cruel, or fate having its say. This was wrong. This was a fire lit by filthy paws.

His chest ached from it.He let out a slow breath, finally speaking.

“She’s strong, Finn.” His voice was steady, but quiet. “Stronger than some of the strongest I’ve known. If anyone can pull through something like this…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He let the rest drift off like mist because he was laying the foundations of false hope, and that helped no one.

When Finn mentioned the blood, the way it drew back in through the hole, Swifttail’s jaw tightened slightly. The image hit too close to home. He looked away, just for a second.

“Barrett’s no fool,” he said finally. “If there was anything left to do, he’d still be doing it. That means it’s up to her now. And if she’s got any say in it, she’ll claw her way back.”

There was heat under Finn’s voice now. Swifttail could feel it pulsing — raw, bitter, and bright. Not misplaced.

“You’re angry,” he said simply. “You should be. What they did was low. Coward’s work. She was only trying to talk to the demons”

He shifted slightly to look the kit in the eye.

“Hold onto it. Let it burn. But don’t let it blind you. That kind of fire can light your way… or it can consume everything you care about.”

After a moment, he reached out and rested a paw on Finn’s shoulder. Firm, but gentle.

Then suddenly, he pulled it away, a shock of realization hitting him like a lightning bolt.

"Finn..." He paused, paws shaking. "The blood is getting sucked back through the hole of the tube, you said?"

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn's ears flattened out. He wasn't sure how the other fox would respond, but he sensed the loss for words and a shared sorrow. It was comforting, in a strange way, knowing that someone else felt helpless too.

With a sharp huff, Finn turned to look out at the shore again. The sun still showed no sign of rising, and even the shrews fires were burning out.

When Swift mentioned that Barrett had done everything he could, it finally rang true for Finn. He finally let go of his denial that there was something left for him to do, and a sense of relief washed over him. Perhaps even Barrett felt helpless.

Still, the fox kit had trouble looking Swift in the eye. He wasn't used to anger like this. When the sea claimed his father, there wasn't really anyone to be angry with. But now, the shrews were a vessel for his anger. When it became apparent what Swift expected of him, the kit reluctantly met his gaze.

Shame, sorrow, and fear met the hardened eyes of one who'd been there. As the older fox spoke, Finn's tearstreaked countenance firmed with resolve. His anger had a purpose, and he was glad for it -- though Swift's caution wasn't unheeded. Finn knew exactly what he meant, and replied with an understanding nod.

When Swift put a paw on his shoulder, he'd find all the tension had left. Finn took a slow breath -- and nearly yawned if it wasn't for Swift's sudden exclamation. (There came the tension, right back!)

"Wh-what?" he asked, startled. "Y-yeah. Barrett put a tube in her side, like... Like a keg of cider or something. But it's not pouring out anymore."

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swift sat up fully. Realization striking him hard.

"It's just a tube? 'Gates, no wonder she is sufferin!"

He stood suddenly, cloak billowing slightly in the wind, then checking his energy, crouched again, more careful this time, lowering his voice just in case any ears were listening from the watch.

"When Morgan breathes in, there's nothing stopping it from acting like a straw. It should only act to let stuff come out, not let it back in!"

His tail betrayed his excitement, it fully flagging out behind him as he addressed his rather shocked kit companion at the abrupt tonal shift.

"Are ye' sure that Barrett didn't mention anything of the like?"

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn toppled over like a bowling pin as Swift stood so quickly, tail flinging up in the air like a little orange firework. The foxkit sprawled on the deck in the most undignified manner, and looked up at Swift in bewilderment.

"Wh-what? No, he jus'said it was his last trick, 'n he'd only done it a few times before!" he said. Swift's excitement was contagious, and Finn was quickly on his feet. "What is it, Swift!?"

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

"Finn, it needs a valve!"

Swifttail couldn't contain his excitement anymore as he spoke. A couple of beasts working the rigging gave them a look. A weasel in seamen's gear snarled.

"Oi! Whetcha' on abet oveh thear?"

Swifttail ignored him and grabbed Finnian's paw, leading him toward the hatch that leads below deck.

"I know a beast for the job. He's always suggesting improvements about our valves on the steam engine! We gotta find Kaii!"

Barely keeping slow enough for young finny to keep up, he flew down the hall to the engineers quarters. Opening up the door, he spotted his quarry, tinkering away on something at a work bench.

"Kai!" he shouted excitedly, "just the beast we need!"

@Kaii Nashirou
@FinnianBrightfur

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Kaii was busy relaxing his mind after the battle subdued... through trying to figure out what metal would be the best in naval construction. Ships were made of wood because it was great in so many ways, except it wasn't too good in withstanding a barrage from enemy cannons.

Swift's voice snapped him out of his work as he sharply turned to its source. "Me? What happened? You need new tools for surgery or something akin?" Kaii asked with half-smirk, ever-so-calm but his tail started moving to the sides at the contagious excitement Swifttail brought to their quarters.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail let out a short, breathy laugh. Not mocking, just stunned.

“You’re already talkin’ surgery tools?” he said, half-grinning. “Spirits bless... you’re more in tune with this than I thought.”

He shook his head in amazement, then leaned on the edge of the workbench, eyes still wide from the sprint.

“It’s Morgan,” he said more seriously now. “She’s got a tube in her side to drain fluid. Barrett’s work, I think. But there’s nothin’ stoppin’ it from lettin’ stuff back in when she breathes. Like tryin’ to blow through a straw one second, then suckin’ sea back through it the next.”

He motioned vaguely with his paws, tracing the imagined valve in the air.

“It needs to shut one way. Let air or liquid out, but not back in. Just a little flap or spring, somethin’ to hold when the pull reverses.”

A pause, then a glance toward the hatch behind him, his tail flicking once in thought.

“Back on deck... Finn saw her breathin’ heavy. Real scared. Asked if we’d lose her. Then it just hit me. 'Valve.' Like one o’ yours.”

He gave Kaii a small, hopeful smile.

“Reckon you can make one small enough?”