By the time they were finally near ready to leave Ancient Spire Outpost, most of the morning had gone by. Her new shipmate had spent a lot of time loitering around, buying this or that. For one who had chastised her about the necessities, Blue had not spotted him along the dock with the Merchant Alliance representative to buy any. Instead, she had watched him spend quite a lot of time and money on pleasantries, alcohol and a cleaning for his blunderbuss. Despite that, he had somehow procured quite a lot of supplies for the ship. She could not help doubting the genuine nature of the crates he filled.

Out of everything she had spotted Z dawdling about with, she was most glad to spot him in a clean set of clothes, bandages apparently shaken. The galleon and her crew were something that they would probably never come to an agreement on, but whatever exactly had happened had left him looking… rough. He looked much better now.

Her shipmate was taking his sweet time. Blue had become bored and sat down at the table aboard the sloop and busied herself with a sword. She couldn't complain about a little time to refine a blade.

"What're you doin'?"

Or perhaps she could. Blue sighed and refrained from being too rude. "Since you felt the need to loiter and stock up so much, I decided to otherwise occupy myself. It will be a long trip, will it not?" She paused for a moment; Z was not company that she considered terribly smart or polite and so she was very glad that he did not take this opportunity to make any sort of obnoxious remarks while she silently chided herself. "Galleon's Grave is still quite far away and the wind favours everyone but us."

Maybe he hadn't said anything because he didn't understand what she was doing. The stupid look on his face certainly seemed to suggest that. "Uh, right, but what are you doin'?" He gestured to her in general.

She inhaled, counted to five, and then looked back to her shipmate. "The swords?" she asked, mimicking his motion. He made a noise of affirmation. "I collect rubbish swords and restore them to working condition when I have spare time. I then sell them for quite the profit." Understanding spread across his face. "You certainly do not need a new blade." She gestured to his arm. "I could dress up the hilt if you like, make it look like you stole it from a king from beyond the Shroud, but one of my swords would be a folly trade."

He looked far less certain now. Z jerked his head back, looking between her and her weapons. "What?"

"I am not a metalsmith nor have I the proper tools of one, only what I have scavenged. I take old, worn weapons and make them a little useful again, not like new, though sometimes they look better than new. Should a few pirates die because they are stingy is of no concern to my bag of gold and I." The old blade was set on the table and Blue shrugged.

The dumb look on Z's face had become more subdued but lingered nonetheless. "And that don't bother you none? People dyin' t' yer shitty swords?"

"Why would it? I have no love for the pirates here or anywhere else."

Z seemed dumbfounded by her answer. Before he could speak, she stood and spoke.

"I am going back up to the tavern. I will be just a few minutes and when I return, we may leave. Is that acceptable?" When he didn't respond in a timely manner with an objection, Blue stepped past him and onto the dock. She took the winding path around the mountain to the tavern, rather than the ladders.

It was a shame that there was no Bilge Rat representative at the inn today. Often, a curious voyage or few could be purchased from them, and what curious things that one man always had to say. Instead, Blue had to rely on the barkeep for rumours, of which there were no interesting ones. It seemed that they would be able to continue their voyage with nothing interesting on their minds.

Or perhaps not. Once she stepped out of the door, a tall group of masts out on the water to the north caught her eye. She recognised their colours and flags and she was glad for it; one galleon was bad enough. A trio of galleons was unfathomable for a single sloop, even one with a good duo-team aboard it.

Any decent fleet would have a lookout somewhere so she stepped to the edge of the tavern's plateau and waved. A lone figure in the crow's nest of the galleon lagging behind waved back. She was glad to see it, yet she doubted her shipmate would share in her relief.

Making her way to the front of the tavern, Blue took the ladders down. Midway, she waved to Z and hollered for him to move the sloop, just loud enough to be heard and refrain from being rude. He had spotted the galleons himself and was rigid.

Back at the sloop, Blue started with a stern, "Oi."

"What?!"

"You are still in our friends' way." He was so stiff that she didn't wait for a response from him. Instead, she began the process of partially untying the sloop herself and then pulling it away from the main dock and out of the way of the larger vessels.

"What are you— what??" Z motioned at the dock she was stood on, to the island itself, to the galleons — his eyes darted everywhere as he did this. He seemed quite flustered and now teetered close to being more than useless in this moment.

"The ship was in their way," she reiterated, speaking slowly. The words were allowed to sink in. "Now, tighten your tie and put on a smile, yeah?" She didn't wait for a response before she turned from him and walked alongside the first ship as it approached, raising a hand in greeting. The fleet and its commander were just as she remembered. "Johnathan! How goes it?"

Off the forecastle of the now docking galleon, a man well-dressed in the Merchant Company colours was slow to raise his head and look about, then raise a hand in kind after identifying her. "It goes well."

It had taken a long time for Johnathan to fully take in her and her sloop. Between him and the crews, it felt like there was some amount of surprise, a low-level sort that made her wonder who would be flogged and how badly. No skin off her back, she supposed…

Any decent Merchant Alliance vessel was loaded with goods. With three galleons and an ego to match, Blue knew that there would be good pickings here.

"My sail is still torn," she started, the both of them knowing full well that she was still owed a favour.

"Oh, is it?" A response of feigned ignorance. A moment was spared to glance at the sloop, then back to Blue. She spoke before he could.

"Mhmm. That one is theirs. I had to fish it out of the water and replace my sail with it right then and there." Her tone was polite. Too polite, even. Johnathan could only barely take a hint.

"Oh. Shame about that. Ah, one moment." He turned away from her and shouted at his crew — her presence was not encouraging them to move as quickly as he would like. He turned to address her again. "Quite the shame for them. You came out of it one sail richer. One crewmate richer, too, I see."

Blue spared a momentary glance back to her shipmate. "I hired him more recently." She crossed her arms. "I came out of that fight with a stolen, plain sail. My decorated sail is still torn." She was quiet for a moment, letting Johnathan watch her observe his crew offload various goods. "Have you any golden silks?" He shook his head, tried to speak but she interjected. "No, of course not. What do you have that would make me less miserable in the Wilds with my current sail?"

"The Wilds?" Finally, he stepped off the ship and stood over her, pulling her into a sort of sideways hug that she didn't return. Was Z looking? Probably. "Whatever could persuade you to go to such a drab locale?"

"Untorn sails."

It was so much easier for Blue to let herself smile than it was for him; she could let her amusement show while he fought to hide his frustration.

"I've plenty of silks—"

"Golden silks?"

She could have done without the harsh grip on her waist.

"Silks of all other colours, I swear."

"What a shame. Have you any coffee?"

"Plenty of tea, rather. Spices and sugar, the whole lot."

"Such a shame." She could feel his grip become ever so slightly tighter…

"There is also specialty rum and dried fish from the Devil's Roar, too."

Blue had to pause to consider that. She would like that. Z probably would, too.

"The fish isn't bad, quite good, actually. You wouldn't have to cook for two every day, for uh…" With his free hand, he motioned over to the sloop and Z, then let his arm drop as though he had to think of what to say.

"No, I suppose I would not," she interjected. "Fish and rum and red silks then." She offered a small purse of coins that he accepted.

"Very good— w-what?"

"Discount for trade with friends, yes?" The look on his face was greatly amusing.

"… a small discount for friends…" Johnathan pocketed the purse and ordered the items to be brought to them. She allowed herself to lean slightly against him as he did this.

"Perhaps a wood crate, too? You know how angular and erratic those rocks can be, how shallow the water is." Blue didn't flinch at the pinch to her flank.

"You do speak the truth…" His words were long and tired.

"A cannonball crate, too? For all those skeleton ships lurking about those rocks, you know."

"Yes, yes, I know!" A stride's distance was put between them and the crew was shouted at again, his fingers snapping at them to hurry the pace along. When he turned back to her, Blue spoke first, already knowing what he would ask.

"Unfortunately, we cannot stay for lunch. It is already midday and the wind is terrible for our travel." She shrugged and turned. A glance to her own ship and she could see that Z was as eager to get moving as she was.

"What a shame."

"Truly, it is." Hands politely behind her back, Blue gestured to her shipmate. "We really must be going; we have our own busy schedule to adhere to." It took a moment, but she saw Z jump, pretending to be so impatient that he couldn't sit still on the ship while he waited for them to finish their conversation. Well, perhaps he wasn't pretending so much.

"Another time then," Johnathan suggested. He offered, "We came from The Shores of Plenty and our route ends here, so perhaps I will see you up north. Discount for trade, you know."

Blue ignored his tone and kept her polite smile. "Perhaps so."

Z whistled for attention; Johnathan turned to see what his problem was and Blue simply took her attention to the crates she had requested, offering small thanks to the ones that had brought them. She stacked them so they could be carried and the two said their cordial goodbyes as she made her way back to the sloop. As soon as her feet were on the deck, Z lowered the sail and they were quickly leaving Ancient Spire. That didn't stop Blue from adding her own, "Let's go," just as she passed through the threshold to the hold. At the table, she set her newly acquired supplies down to glance through them, see what had been skimmed from them before reaching her hands — she would refrain from complaining for even one crate was worth the handful of gold spent.

A jingling from the rum bottles made her look at the crate just in time to stop it from sliding off the table, the silk unceremoniously falling in its stead. Now, before she could start going through everything in earnest, she was acutely aware of just how poor the sailing was in this exact direction. They could head directly north as they currently did, cut across the channel and skirt past the islands of the Wilds until they reached their destination, or they could take a longer, more pleasant route.

"Turn the ship westerly, would you? This wind is simply awful," Blue said from the table.

Slowly, the horizon shifted and she was certain that she had been heard. With their route adjusted, the ship rolled more smoothly over the waves and Blue could stash everything she had obtained into a temporary place until they stopped and she could more thoroughly sort it. Until then, she would sit at the table and work on the blade she had started earlier, eager to shake her sour mood.

After everything that had transpired during their attempt to rest at the outpost, it was wonderful to be out on the open water again. Despite the luxuries afforded by any port, there were far fewer people out here and that meant Blue could clear her mind. Having someone to take over the helm for her meant that she could get some work done while they travelled for once. Of course, that wouldn't be necessary if he hadn't been around in the first place, or if he had better manners… Still, Blue allowed herself to soak in the current arrangement.

"Hey."

… for as long as she was allowed to, at least. Blue paused her work on the sword, refrained from barking at him to disappear, and gave him her attention.

"Y' wanna go across the channel or find somewhere t' hunker down for the night?"

Between their loitering at the outpost, bartering with the Merchant fleet, and the poor wind conditions, they hadn't made much progress towards the Wilds. It hadn't been a good day. Pressing forward and accomplishing something that felt meaningful was attractive, but stopping for rest was still more appealing. That would be more beneficial as a crew, too.

"Stop us at the nearest island."

"The nearest island?"

Something about the way he asked that rubbed her the wrong way. She wondered if she had stuttered, which she knew she hadn't, and repeated, "The nearest island." She dipped her chin and focused once more on sharpening the sword she held, certain that the screeching of whetstone on steel would convince her shipmate to busy himself.

Soon enough, the motion of the ship cresting waves became more and more gentle and it slowed to a stop. The idea of getting up and stretching her legs on dry land was a nice one, but as soon as she emptied her hands and looked about, Blue was acutely aware that this was no ordinary island they had stopped at.

Docks were commonplace at many islands, but this one was tiny. More strange were the wooden battlements just before the dock that surrounded the perimeter. A tall person might have to duck their head to step foot on land proper and pass under the turrets it supported. From the main deck of the sloop, Blue scanned the area. The smell of old gunpowder permeated the air, and something else she couldn't identify. From the way they had travelled and what she could see in the distance, she was fairly certain they were at Old Boot Fort.

"Why are we here?"

Z leaned against the wheel. "It was the nearest island."

Blue took a breath in; it wasn't bone, was it? She suppressed the urge to strike him as she futilely tried to understand his logic. "Sailing conditions have not been in our favour. They have been poor, even. There is no reason to hurry ourselves to the Wilds. Likewise, there is no reason to stop here…"

"It was—"

"Nearest island or not." Blue crossed her arms, trying to decide what made him pull this stunt. So far, Z had made good on their agreement to teach her whatever he thought she might not know and that gave her cause for concern. She thought about her words — previously said and new ones — while he made his way down to the main-deck to join her. She also took note of the limp that she decided he was trying to hide.

"Is there any danger resting here?" she inquired.

Z leaned against the mast now. "Nah. Some pirates think these strongholds are haunted. I guess in a way they are — skellies like these islands. Guess they're theirs or somethin', the way they act. Sometimes. Sometimes there are… a lot of them, and with loot t' steal." He paused to look at her. "You've noticed it, haven't you? That sometimes there's more skellies here or there, an ominous cloud or two…"

"And the pirates that follow."

"And pirates followin'," he repeated. Then he smirked. "Of course, some'a those pirates think a lot of other crazy things, too: that these islands are haunted by ghosts, or that if you stop at one y'll be killed the next time you sleep, that merfolk will tear yer ship apart, that crabs will climb aboard and pluck yer eyes out…"

Blue gave him a quizzical look. Some of what he had said was correct; there were skeleton ships roaming areas with increased interest when these fortresses became inhabited, at least according to pirates she spoke to. They would have curious treasures she rarely saw and report that they had taken them from the vaults of these places after fighting scores of skeletons for it. Yet, some of what he said was utterly ridiculous.

She asked, "These are but mere tall tales?"

"Aye."

"They are as ridiculous as the sailors that repeat them."

Z nodded, though he didn't look as though he agreed. "Aye."

"And yet, myths and legends must come from somewhere." Blue wasn't actually sure if she believed anything he had said except the part about the skeletons, but his interest was clearly upon her now.

"Well, there are no skeletons here. Not now, anyhow," she continued. "We have not been greeted. How about we go scavenge more supplies?" She moved as though to leave the ship, but he didn't budge. She feigned surprise. "Or are you afraid to go and see?"

He rose a brow, unimpressed. "Don't need t'; there's nothin' up there. I've been at the wheel all day and the last thing I want t' do's go climbin' a fort's wall for a few rancid poms."

That was curious; Z thought he had spent all day doing that? He stood proper as though to move and Blue stepped in his way, standing close. "Are you sure?"

"'Course I'm sure."

"Then you should have no problem going up there with me and salvaging whatever we can find."

Z looked annoyed, though his expression softened noticeably as soon as she pressed her shoulder against his chest.

"All of those awful stories people tell of these places have to come from somewhere, do they not?" she asked, leaning into him.

He scoffed. "Maybe. Some pirates also tell tales of lady merfolks that have pretty songs and then kill every crew that comes t' listen to 'em."

Stories of sirens were not uncommon. It was all untrue, of course, products of sailors who had drank seawater or otherwise become ill. Blue pretended to not know better, acting greatly concerned. Her hands went to gripping one of his forearms. "That's terrible!"

Now Z looked concern. He looked at her, astonished; one of his eyebrows just might have flown off his face if he had believed her anymore. A noise came from him that she wasn't sure of and then he was burying his face in one of his hands.

Blue kept her hands where they were, though lessened her grip. She took a step to the side and swung a foot behind him, pulling it sideways. It was incredible how easy it was to fell him, yet she didn't think his shout was entirely one of surprise. He deserved it for trying to hide whatever was wrong with his leg from her and for believing that she was truly scared, the fool.

She waited for him to finally look up, grinned and taunted, "Those are very silly stories, are they not?"

Z was left to consider his current situation as Blue disembarked the sloop to scavenge supplies and find some solitude on the fort.

Pirates or not, most sailors were a superstitious lot. Sometimes these fears made sense and helped keep them alive, keep their ships safe; more often, they were utterly ridiculous. As she scavenged the highest points of Old Boot Fort, Blue wasn't sure of what to make of these thoughts.

Upon spotting the first abandoned gunpowder barrel, Blue had paused and given it more that than she normally would have in the past. Should it explode and she be caught in the blast, she doubted that it would be a painful experience, and she doubted that she would even remember it should it kill her. New knowledge of the Sea of the Damned and its Ferry was swiftly changing her thought processes. It was for the better, she decided. Now, in a situation like this, the only real risk any stray powder barrels posed were to the ship.

There were many partial skeletons scattered about the island. Along the main path that led to the vault was a mostly complete one. It seemed that its owner had tripped, fallen, died and their corpse had been left undisturbed by everything but time. This must have happened quite some time ago for the earth was reclaiming their bones, yet before an outstretched hand on the ground was a fresh pineapple, sat as though it had been placed there. These bones had ceased moving a long time ago; was it a cruel joke by some unseen entity? She pressed onward and turned her thoughts elsewhere.

Animated skeletons were very real and they posed real dangers. Any visitor of the Sea of Thieves would know this. Perhaps there were good reasons to fear these strongholds at all times. Perhaps it had been cruel to treat Z the way she had. Then again, he had a nasty habit of treating her like she was nothing more than a child…

Despite what he had told her, there were plenty of useful items strewn about the island. Many of the barrels and crates were old, the items in them even older, yet Blue was still able to find some that had more recently been recovered from the ocean. After all the time spent at outposts as of late, they were not wanting for fresh supplies, but good fruit was always appreciated. If Blue were not so fond of starting the day with crispy fins, the fruit alone here would sustain them for over a fortnight.

With her pockets filled with decent coconuts and her arms full of shot and planks, Blue glanced around from the top of the island. Except where the island blocked her view, visibility of the area was incredible. A great deal of the whole Sea of Thieves could be seen from where she stood. If she climbed all the way to the top of the structure at the centre, she realised she would have a totally unimpeded 360 degree view from this one island. It was a small landmass, but its location was prime. No wonder it had been claimed.

Most interesting, however, was the ship, or more specifically her shipmate. From her vantage point, Blue could see that Z was yet to move from where she had laid him out. That seemed unreasonable so it must have been that she could not see clearly enough from where she was. Her curiosity piqued and plenty of supplies in hand, Blue made her way back down to the ship.

When she got there and could see clearly, Blue saw that no, she had not been mistaken: Z was still very much still sprawled out on the deck where she had left him. She initially ignored him and instead made her way below deck to store her newly acquired goods. When that was done, she was back on the main-deck to better sort the cannon shots out, but when even that failed to elicit any significant movement from him, she shot a curious look in his direction.

"Are you going to get up any time soon?"

"Nah, I'm pretty comfy."

Blue looked him over again. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah. Think I'll sleep out here. You can have yer bed back t'night."

Blue rose a brow. He was quite mistaken. "I sleep on the canvas."

"Y' don't have to."

"I always sleep on the canvas."

"Don't y' think it'll be crowded out here t'night if y' do that?"

"I think I ought to be the one asking that…" She felt her face contort. She shook her expression away and leaned against the mast; he was being ridiculous. "Sleep in the bed, I do not use it anyway."

"This is fine. Why don't y' use the bed?" Now that he was aware of how close she was, he was a bit more animated.

"Old habits." The conversation was annoying. Blue pulled away from the mast and knelt down. "Your legs — what ails you? I did not kick you th—"

He was sat up as soon as she was at his level and words flew off his tongue. "Yes you did! I don't get why y' did it, neither. That was just plain mean. There wasn't—"

Blue wasn't sure why her two fingers on his lips silenced him. "I did not kick you very hard," she said sternly. She withdrew her fingers so he could not bite, should it cross his mind. "And you know precisely why I did it."

"I do not!"

"Surely a man of your cleverness knows why and why you are about to be kicked again if you keep up this attitude."

Z scowled and she stared back with unimpressed eyes. She stood upright and when she made a motion with one leg, perhaps to kick him again, perhaps to step on his leg, he recoiled, hands up to yield.

"Fine! Fine. It's… botherin' me is all."

"Bothering you?"

"Yeah."

"I would think it is a little more than bothering you for how long you have laid here."

"What, y' don't ever relax when y're sore?"

Blue wanted to strike him. He was being annoying, running around the subject, and he damn well knew it. She didn't think that he was terribly smart, no, yet he was showing more and more that he was more clever than he led on. She wondered if it was worth arguing more with him. Any other time, any other circumstance, she would have let him be, let him whinge and die, but this was her reality, too.

Rather than do any of that, Blue ducked below deck. She grabbed a spare blanket and pillow that she was not terribly fond of and returned to her shipmate. "Fine then," she began, feigning concession. "If this is where you would like to sleep, then you shall."

There was a brief moment that Z looked surprised, then smugly satisfied. Neither said anything as the items were passed over, Blue going as far as to set the pillow down right where his head would lie.

"Ah, this is more like it. Thank you, thank you…" How very full of himself.

"You're quite welcome," she said with a smile.

Z was making himself comfortable as she said that. His movements slowed, becoming more deliberate. She noted a subtle change in his expression, too, followed by a vague attempt to hide his face by dipping his chin against his chest as he fumbled with the blanket. He was about to speak when she stepped over him; one knee buried itself into his thigh and the other leg supported her weight. One arm flew under his partial leg, pulling it back and taking it hostage while she used her other hand to remove the prosthetic. The blanket made his attempts to fight back futile and he yielded quickly.

As Blue had suspected, his leg was more than 'bothering' him. In the short time that they had known each other, she had never seen him remove the pegleg on his own. The infection that had taken hold was quite a nasty sight and she was wondering just how she had gotten herself into this situation, a question she found herself wondering far too often as of late.

"You are really making me work for these secrets of yours," she commented. She felt him wiggle defiantly underneath her and she reinforced her weight on him in response. Only when she was certain that he was done pissing and moaning about did she bring her hand to her back, untucking her shirt enough so that she could withdraw her knife. She felt him tense up.

"Whoa. Hey!"

Blue had already pulled his knee against her chest so his attempt to jerk his leg back and free did nothing but push her a little.

"You are fine," she halfheartedly reassured. The blunt edge of the blade was used to push some dirt and scabbing away as she examined the wound. All things considered, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, should have been, even.

"There is nothing to cut away here, only to soothe." She paused and twisted slowly to look back at him. "And to properly rest."

He looked annoyed.

"Stay here."

She gave the side of his knee a little pat before handing custody of the limb back over, standing quickly so he couldn't try anything. Z's noises of complaints were ignored and she was back on the island. This time she passed the supplies by, only noted them for later collection. The terrain was scoured until she was back towards the highest point of the island. This pile of scrap had been spotted earlier and in it was a branch large enough to serve as a walking stick for Z. A nearby aloe plant was goaded into donating a leaf, too.

Back at the ship, Blue found her shipmate where she left him. She made her way past and to the table, placing everything there. Even her dagger and its sheath and belt were placed down; there was no point wearing it, she decided. Z, on the other hand, was a different story. It was only when she made her way back over to him and crouched down that he responded, lifting his head.

"Shall we get you on your foot now?" It was more of a suggestion than a question and Blue wasn't going to give him time to sass her over it. One arm went under his and she was pulling him up, much to his surprise. Perhaps he had considered protesting, but he did not, very quickly stumbling upright. He leaned heavily on her for this, what with the one foot and wound, but somehow it felt as though he were being purposefully cumbersome. Nonetheless, he was led to the desk and plopped into the chair without argument. The stick was then offered and he gave her an annoyed look that she was unable to discern the exact mood of.

"What?"

She rose a brow at him. "What?" She made a gesture to offer the stick to him again. Just what did he…? She shook her head. "You do not expect me to carry you every time you would like to move around, do you?"

The two of them stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. When Blue got the feeling that he was about to say something stupid, she spoke quickly: "Your leg will not heal if you do not allow it to rest. Now take the damn branch." He gave her an exasperated sigh and did so.

With that matter finally handled, Blue could retrieve the discarded prosthetic from the deck. Despite it being tossed earlier, it was now handled more carefully; she would hate to be responsible for causing actual damage to it. Z still looked annoyed as she passed by to store it under the grog barrel with the rest of his belongings.

When Blue returned to him, reached for the aloe, he couldn't resist speaking. "This again?"

She wanted to smack him. "If you prefer, I could let your leg fester, let it crawl up your leg and take what is left of it. Perhaps take what is even more dear to you, too, I am sure." He made a face. She wanted to laugh but only shrugged instead.

"Maybe your life, too. That would solve all of my problems."

She didn't say those last words. As much as she wanted to chide him, Blue refrained from scolding him even more. Rather, she gave him an unimpressed look and helped him prop his half-leg on the corner of the table so she could tend to it. She was in the midst of slicing the aloe leaf open when he broke the silence that had not lingered nearly long enough.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

She wanted to stab him. The question didn't stop her from tending his leg, spreading a generous amount of the aloe's jelly across the afflicted area, and it gave her something to focus on. There were other uses for her dagger here, but she refrained.

"What?"

"I get the feelin' y' don't like me."

"Make your point."

He shifted slightly. "That wasn't a no."

Blue paused and looked up at him impassively, reconsidering her blade. He shifted again.

"Err, my point…" Annoyingly, he seemed to be at a loss for words. "Why… why bother with this—" he gestured to her and his leg "—if you don't?"

How in all the hells Blue got stuck with this pirate rather than any other was beyond her. She almost asked him aloud. There wouldn't have been any point — it wouldn't have made anyone feel any better. He was dumb as rocks and anyone who could have answered her had forsaken her long ago. She bit the inside of her cheek, steadied her hands, and pulled away from him.

"I believe there is a saying for most of these situations, that a crew or ship — any grouping, really — is only as strong as its weakest member. Link. Something about a chain. Therefore, it is in my interest to make sure that you do not drag me down with you, is it not?"

Blue didn't wait for a response before she walked away.