Closed Sea & Tea = OMG!

[Darcy Silverwood]

WINTER 75TH, 512 AV

Darcy placed his quill down mid-air, the fuzzy feather falling down onto his parchments. He sighed, taking a brief look through the window closest to him, smiling as he watched the sea and its waves come tumbling upon the shore, the beautiful array of sea green colours calling out to him, as the water swirled and gurgled. He had come to The Quill's Rest in order to hone his writing skills, being brought up by his mother to favour intellectual skills as well as natural talents. He would have wrote at home, but coming here, it just gave Darcy a sense of freedom and relaxation as he felt the warmth of the nearby fireplace take over, the heat soothing his legs which had been frozen from his walk earlier. Something just feels so right about this place, I feel like I can truly write about how and what I feel whilst I am here. He picked up his quill now, blowing the feather gently, as it breathed a sense of life for a moment. He carefully inked more words upon the parchments, neatly alligning his sentences with his curved, fancy handwriting.

It was if, when he wrote, he could just sit there for hours - writing sentences of either dreams and visions he had, had from previous experiences or simply being inspired by his surroundings.

All of a sudden, Darcy's mouth felt unfavourably dry, he couldn't quite work out if it was the long walk he had, had upon arrival or whether it was to do with Darcy feeling the need to constantly stare out to look at the sea, which called out to him ever so gently. He felt compelled to write about it and before he could control himself, his hand swiftly moved to write words of the sea. Darcy titled this 'Beckons To Me.'

'It beckons to me, the waves grace the shore,
As I watch from my window, but long to raise for the door.
Oh sea, how you beckon me to your depths of wonder,
How you've taken my inspiration, like the sudden surge of thunder.

Your temptation makes me want to jump right in,
To cleanse myself from this world of undeniable sin.
You whisper words to me, through my ears... and show my eyes,
That if I was never to bathe in your waters, that I'd feel denied.'

He stopped and felt the quill drop from his hand yet again - intending to finish his poem later, the smell of tea tickling his nose as he felt his throat gasp for fluid. He pushed himself out from under the table where he sat, striding along to the cafe.

"I'll have a cup of your steamed kelp tea please, ma'am," he declared to the young woman who appeared to be serving today. He made a turn to walk back to his table, smacking his lips gently with his tongue as he sat himself back down upon his seat, which was still warm. A few minutes later and Darcy was presented with the cup of steaming liquid, along with a saucer, teaspoon, small jug of milk and pot of sugar. He smiled, nodding to the woman as he handed over the money for his beverage. He quickly sorted out his drink and in Darcy's case, this was no other than a splodge of milk, two sugars and a quick, hurricane of a stir. He raised the cup of tea to his lips and quietly sipped, his whole throat now feeling soothed as he stared around him yet again before turning back to gaze upon the sea.

[Mak'Viri]

Mak'Viri shuddered as the carts wheeled in and out of the infirmary, bringing the last of the dead away. Her job as a doctor was a difficult one this season, the Blight bringing its own array of hardships to what would otherwise be a largely uneventful position. The Konti washed her hands in the basin before returning to the bedside of a human child whose coughing had gotten so bad during the previous night that she now threw up after her fits. She was unnaturally pale for a human, her forehead beaded with sweat, her tiny limbs too weak to lift themselves to even hold a cup of water to her dry, cracked lips.

Her name was Ghinniel. She was six years old. And if Mak'Viri couldn't get her fever down and water to stay in her stomach, she would die. She smiled kindly down into the pain-dulled hazel eyes that looked up at her with such trust, and placed another blanket over the girl and a cool, moist cloth over her burning forehead. Her breath rattled in her chest. Mak'Viri murmured something soothing to her when Ghinniel whimpered hoarsely for the third time in the last twenty minutes. She had two other patients that she tended to, providing much the same care as she moved back and forth between them all.

An hour later the two boys wheeled the cart out a final time. Ghinniel's little feet dangled limply over the end. Her other two patients were still holding on. But as the sun began to set, Mak'Viri readied herself for her now routine nightly walk before she went to the Denvali Quarter to check for more who would need transport to the infirmary. She would then go to the University employment quarters to sleep. She washed her hands, face, and hair of the blood from the various patients she'd tried to save. She put the bloody apron she wore over the infirmary uniform of white swathing cloths into the linen pile to be washed and changed into her normal clothes.

Clean, dressed properly, cloaked, and ready to go, Mak'Viri left the infirmary feeling as haunted as ever. She walked past the Shrine to Rak'keli, touching one of the columns gently with her webbed fingers, drawing a small measure of comfort just being there, Ghinniel's trusting face burned so deeply in her mind no longer paining her quite so much. She turned away from the shrine and went to walk along the coast beyond the port for a while, the gentle lapping of waves over the sand a rhythmic sound that was so familiar and soothing to her that she felt she would be bereft without it.

After a while of wandering, yet not feeling tired enough yet to sleep after her trek through the mostly-deserted streets of the Denvali Quarter, she decided to go somewhere she hadn't yet explored during her nightly walks. The Quill's Rest. She didn't know how to read or write, but she could definitely appreciate a hot cup of Kelp Tea. And she'd definitely heard plenty about it.

So she began making her way up the foothills to the Quill's vista, mindful of her sea-foam-coloured dress' long hems and of the large, hap-hazardously-stitched tear in the front that could come undone at a slight pull in the wrong direction. She sighed happily as she reached the top, and quickly found the path to the front door, which she entered after first ensuring that her deep brown coif was over her white hair and her teal scarf securely wound around her throat, concealing the largest of her racial differences from immediate view.

Warmth rushed to greet her as she closed the door firmly behind her. Her thin shoulders, which had been unknowingly hunched against the cold, now relaxed as she moved forward, looking around the cozy wooden interior and gravitating initially toward the large fireplace to warm herself for a moment. Eventually, she looked around for a place to sit. Unsurprisingly, the majority of the seats and nooks were taken by patrons who were busy scratching away at scrolls or manuscripts with their various quills. Very few were not busy, and most that weren't looked as if they did not want company of any kind, despite not having work in front of them.

With a puckered brow and a vague frown, Mak'Viri looked around more carefully before eventually seeing a young man. He had short-cropped dark brown hair, and lightly tanned skin, the mark of someone who spent equal amounts of time inside and out under the sun. He was turned to face the window beside him, gazing out into the ocean. She understood his captivation when she, too, gazed outside.

The sea seemed set ablaze, was dappled in fiery hues as the sun set upon the horizon. The splashes of oranges, reds, golds, and peach-pinks offset the blue-green waters, their reflective waves rippling with the winter-chilled wind, which whistled past the window panes outside. She approached his table hesitantly. ”Excuse me, sir? Would you mind if I joined you?” She asked quietly, mindful of the others' needs for quiet as they worked.

[Darcy Silverwood]

Darcy continued to stare out of the window upon the sea, breathing in and out softly with sheer and quiet contentment, the colours vastly becoming a blur within his dark, brown eyes. Visions of the most beautiful ships crossed his mind, as he dreamed of visions of sailing, for Darcy could sail - it was something he was quite apt at. He felt his ears prick at the voice of a young lady who had just spoken. Darcy turned his head, placing his cup of tea firmly back down upon the table. At first, Darcy was slightly taken aback from the sight of Mak'Viri, her pale skin and bright eyes almost making the sight of the sea slightly boring now. Her beauty and intellect was apparent upon first glance. He couldn't quite believe that someone had actually approached him, for in all of the places, it had to be here. He smiled and quickly brushed himself down, scattering his parchments and gently nudging his cup of tea as he did so, his long arms swaying gently across the table and then back down again to his sides.

"Of course you may," he replied soothingly, feeling a kind aura ooze from Mak'Viri. He wasn't quite sure on what she did or merely who she was, but he sensed good vibes coming from the Konti. "What brings you here?" he asked gently, pulling out a seat which was nestled slightly towards the corner behind him, quickly placing it beside his left knee, his hand now gestured towards the plumped up cushion that sat atop of it. "Oh... and how silly of me, I forgot to take your name - that should be the first thing in which I ask for, yes... your name?" Darcy felt his cheeks graze a slight shade of pink, he was brought up to remember his manners and to make people feel at ease with his fast forward talking.

Before she could say anything else, he felt himself rambling in his nervousness - keen to make a decent impression. "Well, my name's Darcy... and I'm here... because," he paused, looking back out to the sea for a second, a brief glimpse of the many hues now sharp and fixated freshly into his mind again against the backdrop of the lowering sun. Darcy steadily conjured up the rest of his sentence, taking in a sharp intake of breath as he did so.

"Because I like to write poetry every now and then. I guess I like to do quite a bit in my spare time," he concluded, a flash of a pearly white smile and a laugh now forming, his hands now placed firmly upon his lap as he looked at the young lady in front of him with sheer interest.

[Mak'Viri]

Mak'Viri tilted her head to one side, as the young man turned to face her. With large brown eyes set under dark brows, and an almost surprised expression on his face, she didn't really know what to expect, but the calm reassurance and a welcoming smile weren't quite it. She felt a little more ease in the face of this, and as the chair and cushion, she didn't hesitate to seat herself, unclasping her cloak and allowing it to drape off the back of the chair in gentle chocolate folds. She smiled as he asked his questions, observing the kind demeanor, though he fumbled over interpersonal niceties.

She chuckled as he grew nervous, not mocking him, but merely amused in general. ”I am Mak'Viri. It is nice to meet you, Darcy. I came here to try the tea. I had intended to go directly to bed after I got out of work, but I wasn't tired, so I came here.” She looked around, a wry smile on her lips. ”I can't read or write myself, but that's alright with me. I've gotten by without it for this long. I don't feel that it will be necessary for a few years to come, anyway.” She said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

And it was true. Learning how to read and write were not on her list of priorities. Her intuition told her that what she would need was survival skills, better knowledge of medicine, some kind of artistic skill, perhaps playing an instrument or singing. She would need allies, people to travel with, and a way to increase her medicinal and fighting skills, things like that. But leisure was not something she believed she would have in the future. Or, at least, not very much of it. She wouldn't be surprised if she didn't learn reading or writing for at least a decade or more.

She was broken from her momentary musings by the arrival of a sweet-looking woman with rosy cheeks and bright red curls framing her face. She asked if she could get anything for Mak'Viri, and if Darcy needed a refresh of his tea. Mak'Viri replied that tea would suit her and quickly fished the two silver Mizas from her coin purse and handed them to her. She waited for Darcy to reply and then watched the woman walk away before continuing their conversation. ”What kinds of poetry do you write? What sorts of things inspire you?” She asked curiously.

Mak'Viri had never learned anything artistic, but she had felt an interest in various aspects of it recently that she hadn't experienced before in Mura. Perhaps being in Zeltiva had awakened that spark now that she wasn't nearly as restless as she had been while in her home city, waiting to see the world. The port town here saw so much life, so many varying people and cultures that blended together, that it was like experiencing snippets of different countries every time she met someone new.

Her tea arrived and she sipped the scalding liquid carefully while she waited for Darcy to formulate a response.

[Darcy Silverwood]

Darcy watched as Mak'Viri fell upon her seat without hesitation, a slight smirk of amusal upon his face as he watched her cloak fall graciously behind the back of the chair, the ends dripping onto the floor in quick fashion. He placed one of his hands underneath his chin, nestling his head with his other hand whilst he stared at Mak'Viri, now completely distracted from the views of the breathtaking sea completely. He felt at ease, the muse for continuing his poetry suddenly gone from the eagerness in making a new friend in Mak'Viri. He cleared his throat, deep in thought as he listened to what she had to say intently in response, reaching for his cup of tea as he did so, managing to drain the remnants of the rest of the cup down into his system. He felt refreshed and rejuvenated.

After hearing her name for the first time, he felt a small, light smile sweep across his face. Mak'Viri, what an inquisite, exotic and unusual name. He felt his eyes fall to the floor, in thought already over the lady sat right next to him, although trying very hard not to show that he was a deep, vast thinker. "Pleased to meet you Mak'Viri, your name is stunning, as are you," he gushed, head tilting slightly as he looked up at her with admiration whilst she spoke. "It seems like it has been a long day for you and I both," he added, relating to the stressful life of being a salesman. He blinked rapidly, thinking carefully about his words. "Reading and writing are not that important, well... they are, but there are much more important things to life, such as in example, being able to express ones self, to love, to give. And to speak freely and openly, that in itself is far more important," he stated, feeling his hands slide across the table as he expressed his opinions to Mak'Viri.

Darcy could tell already that Mak'Viri was going to be an interesting person and he sensed a hunger from the young woman, although he wasn't quite sure what type of hunger this was.

Darcy politely asked for more tea from the woman with the gleaming, red curls and smiled, handing over more money yet again in exchange for the amazing refreshment that was tea. Darcy loved tea, there was no other drink quite like it, especially during the cold season of winter where the climates were quite brutal.

He contined to listen to Mak'Viri, smiling whilst she spoke. "I write about a lot of things, mainly to do with my past experiences though or whatever inspires me at the time. Things just get me, you know, like the wind... it just takes me there and then and blows me into a whole new direction and dimension sometimes. Life is incredible, I love writing and expressing how I feel. It comes in handy for singing too... with lyrics, it's pretty much the same thing, they interconnect with each other." He chuckled, his eyes warm from being able to have such an intimate conversation with someone whom he'd known for not very long at all. "What would you say inspired you, Mak'Viri?" he asked promptly after saying his piece, his drink arriving a minute or so after Mak'Viri's drink did, the lady quickly taking away his old cup and replacing it with a full one.

He thanked the lady and took a sip of his second cup of tea after adjusting its contents, lapping the fluid up slowly but surely, every precious droplet warming up his body and soothing his throat, which had been feeling a little dry and sore, yet now fully restored almost due to the lovely tea which was on offer.

[Mak'Viri]

The first thing he spoke was a compliment. Mak'Viri could only blink in stunned confusion. In Mura, she had been average, if a little plain, in comparison to the other women who lived there. Her name was merely a mantle left over of her mother, a way to carry her past into the future. And, again, hardly anything unique to any Konti. So she blinked again and ducked her head. ”Thank you...” She said quietly, and peeked back up through her pale lashes as he continued, referencing a hard day. She nodded grimly. Ghinniel and countless others' faces flitted through her mind rapidly.

She listened to Darcy's opinions about reading and writing. She couldn't help but chuckle. She'd come to The Quill's Rest. Of course just about everyone in here would feel that way. She nodded. ”Perhaps that is true. But there is not always time for such things. And there are many other ways of expressing ones self.” She said. Not that she had ever been particularly drawn to any method throughout the duration of her childhood. But she had always been a practical being. Frivolities were not within her mind, and such leisurely activities were considered frivolous to her for a long time.

She was less certain of her child-like conviction now as she had been in her youth, having seen first-hand how her extensive, exclusive studies now held her back from so many things, and how all her preparation had been based off of the very little information she'd known about the world. She knew enough to survive at the basest level within a city, but to be able to sustain herself in the wilds was her goal, and she did not have those skills. She feared that she wouldn't get them soon, either. She knew of very few people who could possibly be able to teach her.

She blinked away her thoughts and worries as Darcy answered her last questions. She smiled, tilting her head and leaning forward over her tea as he described what inspired him. She wondered what it would be like to be so inspired by the world around her. Would it be an annoying distraction? Would it be a burst of pure happiness, a burning passionate need to create something exquisite as so many seemed inclined to believe? She wasn't sure. So when Darcy asked what inspired her, she couldn't answer right away.

”I don't think that I have inspiration, or, at least, not in an artistic sense. I have something that drives me, like anyone else, but I would hardly call it inspiration.” She said slowly at first. And she did mean it. Her intuition was what guided her actions, the glimmer of instinct mixed with foretelling that trickled into her every step upon her obfuscated path to what lay ahead.

”But if I were to be some sort of artist, I can imagine that my inspiration would come from a similar source. In Mura, I used to live near the Silver Lake. Such is its beauty that I would spend endless hours by the shore, just watching the sky ripple in its reflection. I can imagine that I would perhaps wish to capture that in some form. Alas, I have neither the proper inclination nor the skills with which to do so.” She said with a shrug. She sipped at her tea, which by now had cooled enough to drink more readily.

She smiled reminiscently, recalling the snow-covered trees that were prevalent this time of year, the gleaming crystalline ice set upon the frigid earth, the truly biting chill of the cold Northern winds. Mura was truly beautiful this time of year. ”But I will never return to my former home there, in any case.” She said quietly. ”That is not where I am drawn to. I want to explore the world.” She said, returning her pale gaze to Darcy's dark orbs. ”And I want to see everything that I can.” Excitement coloured her tone now, and animated gestures seized her hands as they moved this way and that to explain herself more fully.

”There's far too much in the world to miss. And I don't believe that anything should distract me from that. Not even if I were taken with fits of artistic creativity, and I had skills to put it to good use. I fully intend to leave Zeltiva to explore the world when Winter has passed.” She said firmly, and then paused, a flush of embarrassment tinging her cheeks a delicate pink. Here she was, taking up this man's time with such unimportant chatter! ”I apologize for rambling so much. Surely you would rather hear of something else.” She said quickly, biting her lip.

[Darcy Silverwood]

Darcy continued to sip at his tea, the backdrop of the sunset glimmering over him, making his skin aglow with colours.

He noticed Mak'Viri's apprehension to respond to his compliment and couldn't help but feel confused as to why. Darcy had heard so many names, seen so many people, heard so many voices... but none were quite like Mak'Viri and he felt very honoured to have been approached in the first place by such a lovely person in whom he could tell would probably have a lot to say for herself. She's such a striking being, so resplendent and gracious. He felt his eyes gaze upon her, deep in thought over his new acquaintance. He was relieved to hear her laugh regarding his comments over not being able to read nor write, a big grin now appearing on his face. Nothing from Darcy was ever forced, every word or emotion was always from the heart. "Yes, there are many other ways of expressing ones self, I definitely agree with you there. I guess those were a few of the things that mean the most to me," he concluded, sipping at his tea again, the cup almost empty, feeling no need to explain further on the matter.

He noticed Mak'Viri was listening intently to when he spoke of what inspired him, what drew him to places like this at times because of it. He nodded at her response, understanding her scale of thinking instantly. "I can be like that too, sometimes. I can tell that you are a driven person, that you are destined for greatness and experiences that will shape you even further into the person that you already are," he declared, smiling warmly at Mak'Viri. He took the last few sips of his tea and placed the now empty cup towards the middle of the table, moving the parchments which he had written on upon his lap.

Darcy's ears pricked when he heard of Mak'Viri speak of her hometown. "The Silver Lake? That to me in itself already sounds beautiful. All my life, I have lived in Zeltiva... and I don't even know why," he murmured, his voice trailing. "I lost my father to the sea as a boy. I remember coming home one day after a day out with my friend, a toy sailboat in my hand. I was then told by my mother that my father wasn't going to be coming home, she didn't quite tell me why... I guess she wanted to protect me. I knew deep down though that my father wasn't going to return and pretty soon, most of Zeltiva was talking about my father's death. He was a famous shipmaker, I've always kind of lived in his shadow. People are somewhat shocked that I haven't continued going down the same route as that of my father, convinced that I am some sort of failure," he finished sadly, his eyes glazing over for a few seconds.

It wasn't something in which Darcy enjoyed talking about much, the feeling of being a failure still haunting him until this very day. Darcy was not usually one to let such things bring him down though and vowed to make a name for himself, be it with his decent salesman skills or his ability to sing, which he could do so beautifully. He knew deep down (despite all the trauma and pain in which he had experienced) that the sea was always going to be a huge part of his life. And it was. He felt fascinated by the swaying beast that was the sea, the foam swilling upon the shore. After much explaining and further thought, Darcy had begun to feel slightly selfish and wanted to resort the conversation back upon Mak'Viri.

"I'm sorry we ended upon the subject of my father, it was not intended I assure you." Darcy smiled at Mak'Viri nervously. He was quite ashamed of it so to speak. "You say you do not have the skills to capture the beauty of the Silver Lake? Maybe... if you ever do return there, to Mura - even if it is only the once and never again, maybe me and you both should go there one day. I wouldn't mind teaching you how to write some poetry. Sometimes, our skills might not be natural for certain things in which we wish we could do - but, we can always better them."

He listened to Mak'Viri apologising and shook his head. "I could talk to you about everything and anything, Mak'Viri. You are fascinating." Darcy noticed the small amounts of a pink blush that was gently forming upon Mak'Viri's cheeks and felt a huge surge of affection for the Konti, touched by her ability to show her emotions. In a way, she was very similar to Darcy, making him feel compelled to never lose her. "You intend to travel? Maybe we could go on our own mini adventure," he joked, placing one hand upon hers for a few seconds in an attempt to look excited and make her melodious laugh ring. A part of Darcy was intrigued by Mak'Viri but he couldn't help but feel a twang inside, maybe of disappointment, over the fact that she was soon to leave Zeltiva.

[Mak'Viri]

Mak'Viri listened to Darcy's words thoughtfully, smiling when he mentioned what he could tell of her, even when he had only just met her. She liked to think that whatever destiny lingered in the future for her would be one of adventures and something that would help others. She didn't know if that was true, but she wanted it to be. She wouldn't know until she got there. She listened to Darcy speak of his past, and she could hear the sorrow in his tone as he spoke of his father. Her heart ached for him, and this showed in the sympathy in her eyes.

She had never known either of her parents. Her mother left the very day after she was born to try to save her mate from sort of peril. She came back fatally wounded several months later, and died hours after she arrived. Mak'Viri had never known who her father was, never knew what race he was, what his name had been, how old he was, where he lived. Nothing. But she couldn't possibly imagine the pain of loosing someone she had looked up to in such a way. She bit her lip, but let the subject change easily enough when she noticed his shame.

”I don't know if I'll return there. But I don't feel that I would remain for very long if I did. Perhaps a few nights beside the Silver Lake in the years to come would be nice.” She shrugged. She tilted her head as he talked of a mini-adventure. His hand covered hers. She was struck by its warmth. She glanced down, noting the utter contrast in the tints of their flesh, the way that, despite the fact that she was most probably older than he, his hand engulfed hers. Despite feeling so small now, she didn't move her hand away. She looked back up, appearing thoughtful in her expression.

”A mini-adventure you say? What did you have in mind? Because, with my inability to read, I doubt I'll find much adventure in the Quill's Rest.” She said with a teasing smile. She had picked up on his joking tone.

OOCSorry it's so short! My attention's divided right now.

[Darcy Silverwood]

Darcy loved the honesty in Mak'Viri's facial expressions and that of her piercing eyes, his fingers tightening only slightly onto her hand as he smiled warmly at her, before moving his hand back, keen not to scare the Konti with his friendly gestures. He was moved by the fact that even though he'd only known Mak'Viri for probably a mere few hours now, she was inclined to show interest, talk and express how she felt with a great deal of empathy and depth. He looked at her pale skin with fascination, only realising how pale it was from placing his hand upon hers.

He continued to listen to her talk, his arms folded. "We should do that one day. I fully understand though that your key desire is to go to new places, to see what the world has to offer. It is exciting, this world. It really is." His felt his dark brown eyes melt into Mak'Viri's blue ones whilst he spoke, captivated by their colour in contrast to his own eyes.

"Well, I have an old friend called George. I don't own my own ship, my mother sold all of my father's creations in order to invest, she didn't really want to be reminded of my father's passing. Me and George used to be extremely good friends. The thing is, I haven't seen him that much since I was a boy. All I know of is the fact that he has a ship and it happens to be one of my fathers, maybe he'd let us borrow it. My sailing experience comes from my father until he died and that of using George's ship up until a few years ago," he paused upon laughing. "I may be a little rusty but it's like riding a bike, once you've learnt how to do it, you don't ever forget how to carry out the procedure."

He was very keen to spend more time with Mak'Viri and didn't want or wish for her to leave him as of yet, determined to keep his luminous, inspiring and intelligent lady around him for as long as he could.

OOCNo worries! Mine is quite short now also.

[Mak'Viri]

The air around them settled gently, the Rest's naturally dim candles and burning hearth made the slowly deepening shadows dart and flicker, like elongated black ghosts over the walls. The quiet atmosphere that encased this place was peaceful around the two conversing in their nook by the window, their faces drenched in the dying ember colours of the sun as it sank below the water's depths. As their conversation seemed to lull, Mak'Viri looked down at her forgotten tea, rotating the cup around in her hands a few times before she looked back up as Darcy began speaking again.

The prospect of an adventure was a thrilling one. She had been living in monotony for so long that she had begun to feel restless as each day passed. Mak'Viri smiled at Darcy, her excitement lighting her face as a candle would brighten a darkened room. ”I've not been on a ship in some time!” She exclaimed, though she was careful to keep quiet for fear of reprimand. Her joy was undimmed even as he said that he, too, had not been on a ship in a long time. ”Where would we sail? What sorts of places could we explore?” She asked eagerly.

She leaned over the table, and paused a moment, tilting her head wonderingly. ”Do you know how to swim?” She asked suddenly. It was a reasonable question. Perhaps they could explore underwater? But no, that was not a viable option. The water was far too cold now for Darcy's flesh to endure. But still... it was a skill the other would need. What would happen if he fell into the water?

She tilted her chin up with determination. She would just have to jump in after him and get him out. She hoped the ship was sturdy... But fretting would get her no where, she decided. She leaned back slightly as she listened for Darcy's answer, making up her mind quickly. She would make sure nothing went too horribly wrong, and they would have an adventure! Maybe they would find some small island with buried treasure!

OOCSorry it took so long! Here you go! I'll be on more tomorrow