Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck
She was kind of down. Out of luck, out of fight, out of ideas and out of sorts, and perhaps she would have preferred to hole up somewhere and brood where she didn't have to talk to anyone. Or smile.
But Talyson had several good points about learning to move around the ship while fighting, and dwelling on her problems hadn't been enough to solve them so far. So she put on a pleasant face and stuffed her mood into the locker alongside her bag and coat, and rolled up her sleeves as the Messenger took them out to sea.
Crystal clear turquoise water turned to vibrant marine, only to deepen into blackest midnight as they passed over the Maw. It reminded her of the Black Lake, stabbing needles of home sickness into her that did absolutely nothing to distract her. Then there was Tal; the scarf on his head and the shit-eating grin was given a long, patient look before she sighed and bared her fangs in what looked more like a sour grimace than a smile.
"Have at me, then, you... uh... poxy cur?" It came out more as a question than an insult, but hey. She didn't speak pirate.
Ducking under the wooden object she snatched up her chakram and took off to block his path to the mast. What did she need to do to protect her - apparently it was hers, now - boat? Uh, rudder, mast, sails, and all of those relied on ropes. Got it. Protect the ropes. She set one of the red-rimmed discs into spin around a finger and sent it flying towards Tal to distract him. She hoped it wouldn't hit; she also hoped it wouldn't set the Peregrine on fire. Considering her luck lately, it was a very real possibility.
But Talyson had several good points about learning to move around the ship while fighting, and dwelling on her problems hadn't been enough to solve them so far. So she put on a pleasant face and stuffed her mood into the locker alongside her bag and coat, and rolled up her sleeves as the Messenger took them out to sea.
Crystal clear turquoise water turned to vibrant marine, only to deepen into blackest midnight as they passed over the Maw. It reminded her of the Black Lake, stabbing needles of home sickness into her that did absolutely nothing to distract her. Then there was Tal; the scarf on his head and the shit-eating grin was given a long, patient look before she sighed and bared her fangs in what looked more like a sour grimace than a smile.
"Have at me, then, you... uh... poxy cur?" It came out more as a question than an insult, but hey. She didn't speak pirate.
Ducking under the wooden object she snatched up her chakram and took off to block his path to the mast. What did she need to do to protect her - apparently it was hers, now - boat? Uh, rudder, mast, sails, and all of those relied on ropes. Got it. Protect the ropes. She set one of the red-rimmed discs into spin around a finger and sent it flying towards Tal to distract him. She hoped it wouldn't hit; she also hoped it wouldn't set the Peregrine on fire. Considering her luck lately, it was a very real possibility.
Maea
