Closed Rescue Me? Pfft...Hardly!

[Rheyine Stormchaser]

Oh. Rheyine's smiled slipped slightly as the shipwright's expression turned from one of pain and embarrassment, to something entirely more sly. He blushed, almost prettily had he been a girl, shifting to a more comfortable position, and the smaller blonde found her own ears turning red as he spoke. Of course, words had spilled from her mouth before her brain had engaged, and it was only now she realised the innuendo in her comments, and even more so the compromising position they were in. As worldy as the young fisherwoman thought she was, multiple older brothers had sheltered her from these such situations. All her chipper attitude dissolved as the blush crawled down her neck. Finian chuckled at her, and even in the midst of her awkward panic Rheyine couldn't help but let her smile return. He was infectious. She relaxed, brushing off her embarassment. As he spoke, the young fisherwoman realised he was teasing her. She raised both eyebrows with a laugh, poking him in the chest with one finger. "Hey, it's not that old! It's...well weathered." She said with a dismissive wave, tucking her hair behind one ear and moving to get up. Her periwinkle gaze took in the bruise on her knee, ears still red and mostly avoiding Finian's eyes as she stood. Of course, she was completely cool and not awkward about what had just happened. At least, thats what she told herself. Dusting herself off, the girl offered him a hand, looking at the broken wood with a raised eyebrow. "So, do you have any idea how t'tow Her t'this isle you know? I mean, the riggings loose now, we could use it t'hitch them together but..." She looked back at him with a frown. "I ain't entirely sure She'll hold together."

[Finian Truewind]

Finian took the hand up and stood with a slightly chagrined smile, noting with no small amusement the shy redness he'd been the cause of. Rubbing his aching backside, he eyed the Storm Runner one more time. He'd need to really look belowdecks, but if she'd been drifting for a day or two, she must not have been taking on water. The sails and mast looked to have the worst damage. Rails were easy enough to fix; rigging too.

The blond shipwright didn’t like sewing. He winced a little at the sails, unable to hide his feelings from his sun-kissed features. Chewing the inside of his cheek in thought, he finally looked back at Rheyine,

“They’ve gotta be only a few bells from here. Just little islands, and I think this reef is the very tail end of 'em.” He said distractedly, obviously a little unsure. A hand strayed to play with sea glass baubles in his platinum hair while he squinted past the broken rigging to scan the horizon. With a slow exhale, he washed his gaze back toward the petit fisherwoman, “If you’re not takin’ on water, then I’d say you’re still shipshape enough for me to tow. I’ve got a bit of rope and then we can use your petched up rigging for the rest."

His tone wasn’t rude, just honest. His mind saw things that needed to be fixed, and he was already studying the lines of the ship made by someone else’s hands most likely before he was born. He paused for another thoughtful moment before finally offering an encouraging smile to the other blonde, speaking with genuine warmth,

“Don’t worry. I can fix her. She’s not in as bad shape as she looks.”

As far as he could tell, anyway, it was at least a tenday’s worth of work, if not two. It depended on the weather and what kind of wood was available. He had some supplies belowdecks in The Handmade’n, but nothing that would make a good mast. He also didn’t have any extra sailcloth; they’d have to repair what she had and hope to make it to Syliras with that.

To keep her hopes up, he realized, it was best to just get to work. He’d been flopping about on her deck long enough, anyway. Ian glanced at the sails, "We should start by taking those down. They won't be much use if they can’t hold any wind.”

[Rheyine Stormchaser]

Rheyine watched him with a slight frown, eyebrows creased in concern as he spoke honestly about the situation. Lifting a hand, she nibbled on a nail nervously, glancing again at the broken mast. "No water!" She blurted suddenly, seeming to startle even herself. Clearing her throat, the young woman blushed in embarrassment, a color she was beginning to adopt around Finian it seemed. "What I mean is, the Storm Runner isn't taking on water. Apart from the stuff that was washed aboard in the storm, its dry below deck." Mumbling around her finger, Rheyine felt the crease in her brow returning. But then he smiled, and told her he could fix it, and she couldn't help but beam back. It was his confidence that made her feel like she could believe him. Looking up at the sails, the girl glanced back at Finian and tipped her fingers to her brow. "Aye, on it." With that, she slipped off her sarong to scale up the broken mast, loosening ropes and ties as she went to bring down the mainsail and the jib. Climbing down again, she loosened the halyard to lower the canvas, and with it came the snapped wood of the mast. Working under Finians instructions, Rheyine helped him prepare the casinor for towing. Locking the rudder, the fisherwoman put away her dried supplies and pulled out her fishing pole along with the net of mollusks, ready to leave the ship for Finians.

[Finian Truewind]

"No water's good." The itinerant shipwright reiterated comfortingly, hands already at work gathering torn rigging into a pile on the deck of the Storm Runner, "I s'pose I wouldn't have found you if you were takin' any on by now."

Ian offered a smile and an almost coy, knowing wink with his words, though he knew what he said so lightly was also an unfiltered truth. Life was harsh on the Suvan, even as Laviku's children.

Once the broken rigging was out of the way of the still-functional lines, he and Rheyine took down the heads'l first since it was spared any damage.. As they folded it together, he glanced up at the broken mast and torn mains'l again thoughtfully. He did hate sewing, but it was obvious he'd have to suck up his disdain of the task or pray hard to Laviku the smaller blonde could stitch as well as she could fish,

"Hopefully your sail won't need any patching; I don't have any sailcloth with me. We'd have to head for Syliras after all if we can't jus' sew 'er back together--." Finian cautioned before they began to lower the ripped sail. Because of the mangled mast and rigging, however, it became obvious that the sail was quite stuck. It luffed uselessly in the stiff breeze, as if it had very sad emotions of its own and was bemoaning it's crippled state. This only caused the taller man to scowl a bit in obvious disapproval, squinting upward at the knot of rigging and sail where the whole petching thing was tangled together, blocking the sun from his eyes with one hand,

"Well, shyke." Ian gnawed the inside of his cheek in thought before looking to Rheyine, "It’s probably best you climb up there. She’s your ship an’, well, you’re jus’ a bit smaller than me should anything else be broken up there—"

He grinned teasingly, using both hands in an exaggerated miming of heroic flare for emphasis,

“—it’ll be easier for me to catch you instead of you catchin’ me should anything happen.”