They both wasted no more time, bolting for the door. The girl was the first one to reach it, throwing the door open without much care for how much sound it made. Her senses were keeping a close eye on what everyone else on the ship was doing, and from what she could tell, the shouting had yet to reach the room that the captain and the majority of the crew was in. The crewmembers that were in the kitchen stumbled out of the doorway that was at the end of the hall and started yelling and shouting.

"The prisoners have broken free!"

"Help! They're escaping!"

"Just run!" she demanded as Thatch swore under his breath and reached for his weapons. She wrapped her hand around his wrist, forcefully pulling him along as they bolted along the hallway, and up the stairs. Jumping the steps three at time, she threw her shoulder into the door, throwing it open as they stumbled out onto the deck. While that was happening, it didn't pass her attention that the captain and the rest of the crew had heard the commotion, and had started to make their way towards the deck from a room that was under the front deck of the ship. "Incoming!"

Thatch roughly grabbed the back of her kimono, throwing her behind him as she was forced to let go of his wrist. Just as he did, a large man – the one who had previously been steering the ship – landed on the deck in front of her, having jumped the railing. In his hands he wielded a large double side axe, his broad shoulders and muscled arms a testament to his mastery of that particular weapon. She was left to stand awkwardly behind Thatch's back, wondering why he had felt the need to place himself in front of him. Was he truly under the impression that she was unable to fight for herself? She may not have been at top physical condition, but she could easily take on the man with the axe.

"How about you guys behave yourselves and surrender quietly?" the man growled, clenching his hands around the handle of his weapon.

"Sorry, but I can't do that," Thatch replied, pulling out his two swords, one in each hand. His grip was light, yet secure and correct. Doubtless he knew how to use those swords when it came down to it, despite his cheerful personality.

"We don't have time for this!" she protested, tugging on the back of his shirt. "The rest of the crew are on the move. They'll be here in a second. Just run."

"I won't let you!" the brawny man yelled, swinging his axe straight at them from over his head. Thatch brought up his swords, crossing them over and catching the attack. His feet skid back a tiny bit, the muscles in his arms clenching as they neutralized the forced behind the swing.

"Duck!" she ordered.

"What?" Thatch spluttered, surprised, although he still ducked. The girl was already in the air, bringing her left leg around in an arc, thrusting her foot directly into the opponent's windpipe.

"Argh!" he choked, axe clattering onto the wooden decking as he dropped to his knees, hands clasping at this throat. He started coughing and choking while she landed back on the deck, tugging onto Thatch's sleeve to get him running again.

"I was handling that," Thatch said, stumbling forward as he sheathed his swords again.

"It was taking too long," she replied, already half way across the deck. The noise that was echoing through the ship didn't escape her attention. They didn't have long before the whole crew was on the deck.

"I didn't even get a chance to do anything!" he argued as she reached the side of the boat.

"It still took too long," she answered, leaping up onto the railing. She crouched slightly before pushing off of the railing and jumping into the air, her body twisting around as the wind tugged at her clothing. She waited until the moment her body rotated to the point it was upside-down before she let the transformation take over her body; fur started to spread across her whole body, her bones widening and morphing into new shapes; thin membranes joined her legs together, creating wings on either side of her body; large ears grew on the top of her head, her teeth sharpening and her face growing into a muzzle. The bandages that were around her eyes stayed there, hiding them from sight still.

As this change was taking place, her body had been falling idly towards the water, head first. Moments before she was about to crash, she spread out her wings, letting them fill up with air so that her body was pushed back up into the sky. She was finally free. Now was her chance. She could leave and run right now. She didn't have any obligation to save the man that called himself "Thatch". The logical part of her brain then interrupted and pointed out that she didn't know where she was going. There was no guarantee that she would make it back to land before she passed out. Her body was almost at its limit as things stood. The smartest thing to do would be to take Thatch back to his crew, and ask them for directions to the closest piece of land. It would save her having to wander around until she found land.

"Thatch, jump!" she ordered the Whitebeard Pirate, and he did just that as more doors on the ship started smashing open, people stumbling onto the deck, trying to make sense out of the chaos. She neatly folded her wings against her side, swopping under his falling form so that she could catch him on her back. As he landed on her back, she spread out her wings against, flapping them twice so she vaulted herself up into the air. "Hold on!"

"I'm trying!" he called back over the sound of the wind, his hands grasping at the fur on her back. She countered the awkwardness and unevenness of his weight by beating one wing harder than the other while he settled himself.

"Just don't fall off," she said as he finally settled down. "Stay low and there will be less wind force trying to pull you off."

The sounds of shouting from the boat reached her ears as they scurried around like ants. She simply beat her wings and flew through the air, as her echolocation-net cast itself out to a wider range, bouncing off of the top of the sea. Her best bet would be to head the opposite direction that the ship was currently heading, and to keep her net wide spread wide enough to catch Thatch's ship.

When she noticed that the pirates were loading the cannons back on the ship she warned, "They're going to try and shoot us down. This'll get a bit rough."

As the first cannon was fired, she pulled her wings into her side and dove directly down at the sea, easily dodging the ammo. It crashed into the sea and splattered them with water, but that was the least of her worries. She banked before hitting the water, the tips of her wings brushing against the surface as she pumped her wings again, shooting forward. Another two rounds were fired as they flew away and she pulled her right wing closer to her side, her body being dragged to the right as she did. The cannonball splashed uselessly into the water as she spread her wing out full again, grabbing at wind. The second ball landed behind them, as they sped out of range of the ship

"Are you okay?" Thatch called in worry.

"Of course," she answered, putting some distance between her and the water as the ship shrunk behind them. "We're out of their range now. It may be a while before we find your ship though. What does it look like?"

"Like a… whale," he laughed. "A big whale."

"…I see. It shouldn't be too difficult to spot," she mumbled.

"Are they following us?" Thatch asked, glancing back the way they'd just left.

"No," she replied. "Doubtlessly they're panicking right now, and they'll probably run for the island the captain talked about. I don't he's stupid enough to think that he can catch up to me."

"You're really okay to take me all the way back to my ship?" he asked after a few seconds.

She paused silently, making mental notes of how her body was feeling at the moment. Flying was second nature for her, but she didn't normally have a passenger, or have to carry them as far as Thatch. Adding to the fact she didn't know where his ship was, or how long it would take to get there, she couldn't calculate if she would be able to make it. But, if she didn't, she'd have nowhere to land, and would fall in the sea and they would probably both drown. She wasn't allowed to die, so she was going to have to make it to his ship – there were no ifs or buts about it. "Yes. What time of day is it?"

"What time of day?" he repeated. "About midday."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"How'd you even end up on that ship anyway? How long were you there?" Thatch asked out of the blue, breaking the silence that had been hanging for a while.

She didn't reply to start with, her cautious side coming through. Why would he need to know that? What good would it do him? What would it matter if she told him? "I was taken by surprise–"

" –even with that sight of yours?"

"I can't use my echolocation all the time. Even using it for extended periods of times or stretching it out too far gives me headaches. I have to rest it sometimes. Although, generally I do that when I sleep–"

"–so they gassed you when you were asleep?"

"As far as I was told. I fell asleep in a tree, and when I woke up I was in the hold of their ship, chained with seastone. I'm not sure how long I was there, because I didn't have much of a grasp on the flow of time." She paused to think about it, factoring in all the little details. "Judging by the way my body condition has deteriorated though, I would hazard a guess of about a month."

"You didn't try and escape before then?" Thatch asked, throwing more and more questions at her. She was starting to find it hard to keep track of what she had answered and what she hadn't.

"Even if I had escaped, chances are that they would have come after me, and then if they did catch me again, they might have taken more drastic measures to keep me there. I was waiting until I got a chance to disable them all so they couldn't and wouldn't pursue me further. There was nothing that demanded my attention elsewhere," she admitted, making note of the growing aches in her shoulder and wing joints.

"Why'd you break out with me then?"

"Their plan was attack Whitebeard. They were foolish, and would most likely have failed. I was not going to be involved in that trouble. I have no wish to die yet."

Thatch laughed, "You make us sound like bad guys."

"You're pirates. I thought such a view on people like you came with the title," she pointed out.

"Ah, true." He made of a sound of discomfort and stretched his arms above his head, careful not to be blown off. "My muscles are already hurting."

"That does not surprise me," she said. "It will probably only get worse as well. There's no way to stop and let you stretch, so you will have to bear with it. How about you? How did a member of the most notorious pirate crew – a commander at that – managed to get caught by pirates like them?"

"Ahaha, that's a bit embarrassing actually," he laughed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "There was this pretty lady who offered to get a drink with me, and I agreed. I don't know what was put into the drink, but the next thing I know I woke up in the hold with you. The other guys are not going to let me live this one down."

Something up ahead caught her attention and she slowed down slightly as her senses started to investigate it. It was a young man on some sort on small craft, being powered by heat and flames, although she couldn't determine the source of those flames. The man in question was shirtless, displaying a large tattoo on his back – one she recognized as Whitebeard's mark. Other than that, he had a pair of shorts and a hat.

"Something wrong?" Thatch asked when he noticed that she'd slowed down.

"There's someone heading this way," she replied. "A young man, weird hat, shirtless with a tattoo on his back. He's riding what appears to be some sort of small craft powered by heat and flames."

"That's Ace!" Thatch exclaimed in excitement. "Can you take me too him?"

"Okay," she agreed and dropped down lower until she was just over a meter away from the surface of the water. She then headed straight for the person that Thatch apparently knew.

As they drew closer, she noticed that he heard them and stopped his craft, going on the defensive, his eyes scanning in the horizon. As they drew into his line of sight, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Ace!" Thatch yelled out over the ocean.

"Thatch! You're okay?" Ace yelled back, a smile spreading across his face.

The girl slowed down when she got close to Ace and his weird craft, flapping her wings so that she could hover in the air while Thatch talked to Ace.

"What brings you out here?" Thatch asked jokingly.

"I was coming for you! We got a message saying you'd been kidnapped! What the hell happened?" Ace demanded.

"Ahaha, about that…" Thatch laughed and trailed off, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

"And what is… this?" Ace asked, staring at her.

"This is… Uhh, she doesn't have a name. But she's my friend. She helped me out. Can we go back to the boat before I start explaining?" Thatch asked.

'Friend?' she thought to herself. 'Since when?' She was only helping him because it worked to her benefit as well. She wasn't helping him just because. She wasn't that nice.

"Right. Follow me; they're back this way. They shouldn't be too far away."

Ace was right. The ship wasn't too far away. It was only a matter of minutes before something passed into her sight-net. Thatch hadn't been kidding when he'd said that the ship was a giant whale. It resembled one very closely with the figurehead the shape of a whale head.

Her attention on the shape of the boat didn't last long before she noticed just how many people were on the boat, instantly putting her on edge. She couldn't count them all, but there'd have to be over 1,000. Not 1,000 ordinary men either. There were even a few women, although they all seemed to be dressed in a medical uniforms. They also seemed built to fight and covered in weapons. In that bunch there were also countless that looked really strong. Not to mention the one enormous man just oozing power even from this distance. The one and only Edward Newgate, commonly referred to as Whitebeard. She started to wonder just what she'd got herself into, and if she'd come out of it.

When the men on the ship caught sight of Ace, Thatch and her, a loud uproar went up on the ship, people calling out Thatch's name and cheering. The loud noise hurt her ears as she flew towards them, causing her to slow down slightly.

"Don't worry, you're with me. They all look rough, but they won't hurt you," Thatch reassured her, mistaking her hesitance and caution for fear. Caution wasn't fear; it was common sense.

"They're awfully loud," she said bluntly.

"It's part of their charm," Thatch replied, a wide grin splitting his face.

"…I don't see how," she mumbled before turning her attention to more important matters. "I'm bad at landings, so if I fly over the deck will you able to jump off?"

"Of course," he replied.

"Get ready," she warned, catching enough air in her wings to vault herself up to the height of the ship's deck, gliding forward and passing over the top of the crews' heads. Thatch neatly slid off her back, and the second he did, she stretched out her wings to their full span and shot off at twice the speed she'd been travelling before. Now that she didn't have the burden of Thatch, she didn't have to worry about having to balance her body and make sure he didn't fall off. She was free to move body however she wanted.

She twisted around in the air, pulling her wings to her sides, her body dropping back down as she flipped and transformed back into her human form. Just as her human form took back over, her bare feet landed firmly on the wooden rail of the lowest sail. Her head spun from the transformation and the sudden deprivation of such a wide sight-net, forcing her to squat down and brace her hand on the rail between her feet. The second she was back in human form, she realized that she really wouldn't have lasted much longer in her bat form before passing out.

There was a hive of activity on the deck with everyone gathering around Thatch, thumping him on the back, or smacking him over the back of head and giving greetings. His crew seemed truly happy to see that he was unharmed. Even Ace jumped back up onto the ship, smiling sheepishly. A few of the men glanced at her, but no one said anything just yet.

Despite all this, her attention was focused mainly on the large wolf among the herd of sheep – the old man sitting back in his chair on the main deck, a bottle of something on his hand. She had very keen instincts – closer to those of and animal than a human, and they were all telling her to watch the old man carefully. She could feel the power and might radiating off of him, and it had the animalistic side of her hissing in defiance.

Whitebeard raised the bottle to his mouth, taking a swig before lowering it and calling, "Thatch."

"Pops," Thatch replied, walking out of the crowd of men to stand before Whitebeard. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused."

"Gurarara," he laughed, "I'm just glad to see my son's okay."

"It's mostly thanks to the help I got, right?" he said, turning his head to look at the crouching girl on the sails. "You can come down, you know."

When everyone's attention turned to her, she didn't even hesitate before replying, "No thank you. I'm satisfied with my current position."

"You remember that talk we had about you being bad at communicating with people?" he asked, smirking. "This is bad communication."

"No it's not. It's common sense," she replied and Thatch laughed. She wasn't fooled. Bad communication was saying something that hurt someone's feelings. Bad communication was not talking at all. She was answering his question and had so far be rather forthcoming. How could refusing to leave her perch considered bad communication?

"Where'd you get this one from, Thatch?" a dopey-eyed man with open jacket asked.

Her heart skipped a few beats as her sight-net failed, leaving her in darkness. She'd been so on edge and cautious that she'd failed to notice how weak her body was, and how close it was to failing her. Her legs and arms tingled and felt weak and unable to hold her weight up. The back of her head was thumping from overuse of her sight-net. She felt warmth creep up the back of her shoulder and up her neck, all the blood rushing to her head. She tried to calm her breathing to stop her body from revolting.

"She was o– Hey, are you okay there? You went really pale there–" Thatch called out, but she hardly heard him. Her last desperate attempts to control her body were for naught. The lack of food and water over an extended period of time, in addition to the lack of exercise and the escape had left her running on nothing but will power. After transforming back into a human, her body couldn't cope anymore. Her head was spinning so much that she didn't noticed when she pitched forward off the sail, but she felt the all too familiar feel of air rushing around her, although she wasn't flying this time. Black snagged her and pulled her consciousness under. "OI!"