Finn put a paw to his face and laughed helplessly. Morgan was a lost cause, wasn't she? The fox looked away to hide his mirth, but his eyes looked out the windows at the island, and the smile faded from his face. The horizon was just starting to lighten, and the little twinkling lights in the shrew villages were starting to wink out. Finn could only count a few times he'd stayed up long enough to see the sunrise. If it weren't for the ugly reality of what they were about to face, it'd have been pretty to watch.
The foxkit swallowed, his brow furrowing. There were many things brewing in his mind, but there were too many for words, and too little time. Setting the bowl down by Morgan's head, he rubbed at his face. "Cap'n says we're leaving for the shore at the next bell..." he said, face burried in his paws as he tried to wipe the sleep and tearstains away. "'e's taking me'n Barrett, but that yer stayin' here. ...I wish y'could come with me."
The foxkit had a sturdy spirit, and seemed to welcome the challenge. And at the same time, Morgan'd be able to sense that Finn was apprehensive. A lump formed in his throat, and the kit swallowed hard before scrubbing at his face again.