A/N I'm sorry for the slow update…my life has been hectic…

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The gyptian boat was being loaded with goods and luggage as the professors watched nervously or fussed over their luggage. Praskovia fluttered into a moth's form, curling into the head of Roger's fur-lined hood. The usually icy boy smiled softly at his daemon before looking quickly up as his name was called out crossly by his father.

"Roger! Get over here!" His father had a red face as he shouted into the cold air of the morning, puffs of dragon like steam spiralling from his mouth. Roger walked over and looked up, and his father pointed.

"Our cases won't move themselves, my boy." Praskovia beat her wings crossly against Roger's neck but the boy himself just hefted the cases and walked to their separate cabins. Thank God that they were separate.

He flung on to a bunk and Praskovia turned into a tiny hawk, fluttering up to the top of the cupboard before fluttering down again and fluffing her feathers.

"He has no right to push you around like that!" she whispered crossly. Roger just shrugged, curling up on the bed to try to sleep. A loud knock disturbed his thoughts of a nap and he frowned, sitting up before treading softly towards the door, opening it and making the culprit screech in fear with the way his eyes had narrowed.

"Oh….it's you, Bill." He smiled and Bill grinned back at him.

"Just checking our resident plant expert is safe in his cabin before we set sail. Not that we will with all of those old men fussing like chickens over their quarters and luggage. Nightmare, it is."

Roger smiled, but closed the door all the same without bidding farewell. He let himself flop onto the bed and gave out a heartfelt mutter of 'sleep' before Praskovia curled up asleep next to him and he felt his eyelids go heavy.

….

Alek stood a short way away, watching the boat as it was loaded. He had a list of ports that the boat would be stopping at and he planned to send letters to Roger to stop his friend from being too lonely. He knew that Roger hid his feelings well, but he also knew that his parents were often too busy arguing with each other to pay him much attention other than that which was obligatory.

He turned on his heel, sighing, his daemon scuttling along his arm as a beetle before becoming a small owl and flying alongside him, trying to alleviate his worry by twirling mid-air and clowning about. A smile flickered at the edges of his mouth before his eyes caught at the boat again, and once more a heavy sigh slipped from his throat, causing Levakya to swoop quickly onto his shoulder to comfort him.

…

Terrence Montfisco leaned over the side of the railing, his eyes following the boy who had been staring at the boat for the best part of two hours. He was sure he recognised the boy from somewhere, but kept quiet.

It was probably one of his little brother's friends, although this boy looked to be a year or so older than Roger, making him a good deal older than Theo. He was just a little shorter than Bill, but Bill tended to bring his friends back to the boat with him for one of Ma Fisco's supper. More likely, his mind pointed out as his daemon whirled up from over the side and landed on his shoulder, that he was a friend of Roger's who had come along to say his goodbyes.

Another thought began to nag at the Gyptian man. Why hadn't Lyra come along to say goodbye? Surely, she needed to say farewell to her son if not her husband. Mind you, Lyra was extremely stubborn at times, and she might be too prideful to say goodbye.

Terrence sighed, hand resting on the railing and not caring that the early morning had turned the bar he leant on icy cold. His daemon, however, shivered and fluffed her feathers up at the cold that suddenly went along her wings. He turned and quickly gathered her in his arms.

"My apologies, dearest heart."

She sighed. "It was just very cold, Terrence." Nipping in the direction of his hand with a beak, she added, "You know that Lyra can be stubborn, but I don't doubt that she'll write to them. She couldn't stand them not paying her attention."

He laughed. "Perhaps she has grown up since last we saw her?"

A short laugh burbled from the falcon daemon's throat. "I shall believe that when I see it with my own eyes, as well you know."

Terrence laughed again and scanned about for the boy, and found him watching the boat again, a feathered daemon on his shoulder.