Chapter 6! Finally! Okay just to brief, Tiller got into BIG trouble with the Captain, (which we still don't know her name, don't fret though, you'll learn it soon enough!)Enjoy!

Skivclaw stared at the shaking Tiller.

"What in th' name o' 'ellgates did ya say ta 'er?!"

Tiller merely shook his head. He pulled his cloak around him and walked briskly off, not wanting to talk to anyone.

Clipjaw called out after him.

"Where ya goin' mate?"

He didn't answer. He just kept on walking. Where, he did not know. Just anywhere but here, He thought silently.

As he walked past the main dock he heard the tavern door slam open with a loud bang. An angry female voice called out. Tiller slowed his walk but did not dare to look back.

"Slitfang! Where is Tiller!" Shouted the Captain.

Slitfang opened his mouth to answer but stopped as Clipjaw nudged him with his foot claw.

"Answer me!"

"He…he..just-"

"TILLER!"

Tiller's already beached heart sunk further into the depths of despair. His captain had seen him. He gulped and turned around slowly.

His captain stood there, fuming.

"Come here, Tiller, now," she grated out with a rage that she could barely contain.

Gulping again, he walked back over in front of the tavern. He stopped just out of his captain's reach.

"Tiller," she said icily, "Tiller Tiller Tiller, what am I going to do with you…" She sounded like she already knew.

His heart had reached rock bottom.

"I know!" She said with a horrid smile, "Tiller, today's your lucky day! You get to scrub all the decks! AND, once we head out, you'll be cookin' for the whole crew for two weeks. I think ol' Stumps would appreciate a break, wouldn't he lads?"

"Er…Aye, capn," said a bewildered Slitfang.

The other two just nodded their heads and muttered a barely audible "aye capn".

The captain turned to Tiller.

"Are my orders clear?"

He nodded, too scared to meet her eyes.

"Good. Now, best get to it. I want my ship clean as a whistle before she sets out, understand?"

He gulped once.

"Y-Aye capn."

She glared at him for a brief moment before turning on her heel and stomping back into the tavern.

The four remained silent, staring at the tavern door where their captain had disappeared into. The icy gale was now a chill breeze.

Slitfang broke the silence.

"Why did she ask me?"

Skivclaw grimaced and cuffed him on the head. Slitfang snarled.

"What was that fer, mate? 'Tis a fair question! She could 'ave just as easily asked yas!"

Skivclaw cuffed him again.

"She asked ya 'cause ye be the dumbest 'un o'us all!"

Clipjaw began to laugh. Tiller would have smiled, but he was in no mood for merriment.

Skivclaw continued to berate the angered Slitfang.

"An' the capn knows that ye be th' dumbest, therefore she knows ya would 'ave told 'er where Tiller was!"

"She saw 'im anyways! She didn't need me t' find 'im!"

Skivclaw let out an annoyed sigh.

"Yah thick-skulled, bottom-feeding, mud-wallowing, brainle-"

Skivclaw was suddenly cut off as the slight breeze blew into the harbour like an ambushing beast, howling and raging in icy anger. Tiller staggered slightly and was winded as the gust blasted into him. His eyes stung and watered from the chill bite and his cloak flapped wildly about him. He thought he heard Clipjaw say something, but his mate's voice was drowned out by the moaning and creaking of ship timbers and the violent snapping of sails. Even the ocean answered the wind's call, slamming noisily into the hulls of the ships, causing them to bang up against the docks that held them.

Tiller expected the wind to die down, but it didn't. It picked up. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his back to the wind, but it roared in his ears and beat at his back, sending a chill down his spine and freezing him to the bone. He began to shiver and tried to pull his cloak closer with his numb claws, but again, the wind buffeted at him so hard that it stung when his cloak slapped against him.

He felt something brush by him and tug at his arm.

"Come on, mate! Fog's rollin' in!" The last words were barely audible.

Tiller slowly opened his eyes. The wind has stopped completely. He turned to look seaward. He was shocked by what he saw.

A great solid wall of grey fog was looming closer to the dock like a dark phantom. It writhed and churned like a wounded serpent, gliding upon the water's surface with silent wings. The brumal cloak consumed all in it's path, leaving only darkness behind. Tiller shivered violently and watched as his breath came out as mist. He hugged his cloak closer, unable to move as the fog bank towered over him, blocking out the sun. The world went dark as the death mist reached the dock. Tiller wanted to hit himself for being so unsettled by mere fog, but he was frozen in spot. He watched the grey doom inch closer, and expected it to wisp his soul away, or a pick him up and throw him against the tavern wall, but it was nothing like that at all. He took a sharp breath as the fog enveloped him. He expected the worst, but he barely felt anything. An eerie silence washed over him. He couldn't even hear the moaning timbers and the waves anymore, and it felt as if the very air itself was tightening on him, grasping him. Worse, he couldn't see anything. Not the ocean, the early morning fires, his mates, everyone was gone. He was alone in an endless sea of grey. Oddly afraid, he took a step back.

Suddenly, he felt something tickle the side of his face. He jumped in shock and peered around him. Nothing was there. He stood still. His heart was pounding furiously in his chest now, and his breath was becoming ragged.

Then, out of nowhere, the faintest of sounds flew up from the sea. Tiller turned his head in the direction that he thought the ocean was in. He could not believe it. He had lost his bearings. He would have headed for the tavern, but he was afraid he would walk straight off the dock and into the water, and no beast would hear his cries for help.

The sound came again, tickling his fur. He froze.

Something whispered in his ear.

It was unlike anything the young rat had ever heard. It wasn't a voice and it wasn't the wind. What was it? It made Tiller shiver even more.

Again, the whisper in his ear.

He held his breath and tried to listen.

The whisper was growing louder.

A terrible feeling of doom suddenly settled upon him like a fatal disease, a plague that he could not be rid of. He turned wildly, this way and that, trying to spot something.

Something caught his eye. He stopped.

There!

A shape in the fog.

It was tall, whatever it was, and big. Very big. Tiller felt his blood freeze. Was this the thing that made him feel so cold? The fog swirled around it, revealing more of the dark shape.

Tiller squinted his eyes. He screwed his face in confusion.

Something slowly materialized out of the grey cloak………

Well! That's all for now folks! Please R&R! Sorry to leave you hanging! Until next chapter…..