For a few good days little had been seen of the captain. In actuality, he was not far―although, emotionally, he was lost. And to distance himself further, he took to his favorite brand of comfort. He was in the process of downing a whole bottle, already feeling like he was half slipping. It wasn't his intention to drink himself to oblivion, but he didn't really care if he got carried away. He was still rather numb from what had happened, and not exactly fit to make any clear decisions. Perhaps that was why he isolated himself from his crew, having taken up temporary residence at the local watering hole. Nobody else there seemed to mind him, although he did catch a few bystanders giving him curious looks.

The balmy evening weather was pleasant, seeming to keep him from becoming restless, and the cool air brought in from the ocean nearby reminded him that he was alive. Miserable, but alive. Despite the sea breeze, there was a wistfulness to the whole picture; it was all grays in Edward's eyes. He sat there, on the floor with his back to the railing, downcast and ignoring the world. What was there to see when everything looked the same?

The railing behind him creaked, and a weight was detected. Someone else must have leaned against it. Indeed, he felt eyes upon him, and he scoffed at this before lifting the bottle to his face, only to have it pulled away from his weak grip. He was suddenly in a fury and turned to chew out whoever it was that disturbed his depression. A person, however, was not the cause.

"Fucking bloody―"

He stopped before he realized what stood behind him. It peered down at him from a good height, a wily glint in its eye as it watched his irritation ebb away. He said nothing, grimacing before turning his back to his uninvited companion.

"Please. Not today," he grumbled quietly. He was so used to Skarmory's insolence, by now he'd learned to ignore it―almost completely.

His Pokémon, however, true to its nature, remained in place, all perched upon the railing practically breathing down his neck. Its sturdy steel claws gave it wonderful grip on the wooden frame, which surprisingly kept the bird's weight balanced as it sat atop it. Skarmory found it strange that Edward didn't fight back for the alcohol; perhaps he was more afflicted than he was letting on. It would have been characteristic of him to snap at the animal, to carry on an argument and chastise it one hundred times over. How unaffected and subdued he appeared now.

With the bottle safely in its mouth, the Pokémon hopped down, taking its place beside him. It watched him a moment or so, suddenly touching his arm with its wing. It perchance wanted his attention, as rude as it would have been, just to see that same old spark. The captain didn't even acknowledge.

Now concerned, Skarmory placed the bottle on his lap; something of an offering to establish peace among the two. Skarmory had kept itself away from him for a good while for his sake; because he made it more or less clear that he wanted seclusion. Everyone else had heeded these instructions, but Skarmory lost patience. Ultimately, it wanted to see how he was doing. Edward had put confidence in his silent comrade, giving it details he hadn't bestowed on anyone else. This was a privilege.

And now it took in this new sight. Its master was no longer masterful, no longer held the same authority in his manner alone as he once did―before everything came toppling over him.

Edward, however, finally bothered after some moments to interact with the bottle. He took it, looking it over as the drink inside splashed around, before setting it beside him, out of sight. He huffed, a hypocritical smile coming to his face. A rare thing to behold after so long! Still, he remained silent, perhaps mulling over something ironic. Only then did he turn to face Skarmory, who so far had been quietly observing.

"I don't make much sense," he said, softly. "Here I am, hoping you will go, when being alone is the last thing I want. I've too much of that already." For being borderline drunk, he could spell things out fairly well.

Skarmory angled its head, curiously listening, but also understanding. It shuffled closer, talons scraping and tapping against the wood floor which produced a peculiar sound, and sat intently right beside its human. It could tell his eyes were glossed over, either from intoxication or from having choked back some rogue tears. The latter was least likely; Skarmory had never seen him cry. Was that even possible?

He looked at Skarmory as if it were a fellow human; spoke to it as such, thinking it could empathize the same way a human would. It was no distant dream, as he knew in many respects a "beast" was as human as himself. After all, the armored bird was a close friend, whether he chose to admit it or not. Thus, he freely put an arm around his companion―much to its surprise.

"E'ryone's gone," he said thereafter. "Even Adewalé. Now I'm without a quartermaster. And a friend. Another gone."

He smiled wistfully, exchanging glances with the Pokémon. At least Adé was still kicking. For that Edward was thankful, deep down. He remembered Anne, too, was practically his other last living acquaintance. At least, the last time he'd seen her, she was alive. How was she faring now? In fact, how were either of them? Edward could not venture to think it. Skarmory could apparently tell that his thoughts were wandering, and it bumped his head with its cold, pointed beak to get him back on the path he started on. The captain sneered at this, wincing at the unjust sting he felt for a flash.

"'Ey! Enough o' that!" He shoved Skarmory, although rather playfully, with a sour expression. "Don't interrupt," he added, pronouncing every syllable carefully to emphasize his meaning.

Skarmory couldn't answer; not that it wanted to. By no means did it want him to start all over again. All it did, however, was simply caw, "Skar."

"You're a good lad," Edward replied, seemingly satisfied with his Pokémon's response. He gave it a hefty pat, training his vision on something in front of him for a moment. Quiet, motionless, maybe studying further thoughts. Skarmory couldn't read him.

"Mary spoke 'bout you; told me I ought t'be a friend to you rather than a master. Thank god I listened. Bless her."

Skarmory sensed the bitter regret in his closing words.

"Maybe she knew I'd be left in this state." Edward returned his gaze to his company. "So I could have one breathing thing on this world by my side."

That made little to no sense to the Pokémon, but it didn't try to figure him out. He was out of sorts, so he could hardly be counted as reliable at this point. Still, Skarmory knew Mary, and knew her well, and it approved of her, respecting her view of the world. Maybe Kenway was on to something. It was possible the late Mary Read knew something neither of them did. But that was nothing to dwell on; the captain refused to linger on the subject, and so made it impossible for Skarmory to debate.

The alcohol gradually brought him under, affecting him in such a way that his sympathies took advantage of him. He used his hand to pet the bird's plated feathers upon its back, patting them down as his palm continuously ran across them. Skarmory couldn't recall the last time its human expressed this kind of affection. It was an alien sensation, but soothing―something it could definitely get used to. However, it was very certain Edward wasn't completely aware of his behavior.

With speech rather slurred, he said, "I lost near all those 'round me. You're a good lad, staying this long. You're the last I want to lose."

Skarmory was honestly touched by his sentiments. It knew he told the truth, also. Skarmory had remained loyal thus far, despite the ups and downs of their relationship. It eventually gained respect and admiration for the Jackdaw's captain throughout their joint travels, and eventually developed a fondness for him. For his sake and its own, Skarmory would stay right beside him until time gave way. For now, however, it would keep itself propped up under his arm until sobriety reached him again.