Vignette: Skipper
Only once Bailey was sure that Fremond was asleep beyond the hastily hung curtain, the snoring come off of the old man providing her with strange comfort, did she reach a hand under the pillow and extract the letter hidden there.
Pale eyes flickered up to where a small pot of sand heated by a candle from underneath stood on the upended crate next to the bunk and then back down to the sheaf of paper held in her hands. Rolling over onto her side she slowly unfolded it, once again reading through its contents.
…I am just as much to blame for what happened and I should have known opening up was foolish of me…
Lips turned into a squiggled line of discomfort. He’d trusted her enough to have started to let her in and in return she’d gone psycho on his ass when petty jealousy had reared its ugly head. And this after he’d so patiently heard -her- out with no visible judgement attached.
…I told you that I was damaged goods but obviously you didn’t understand just how far gone I am…
She sensed such a history of pain in those few words. Fine brows draw down toward each other as the bitter bile of disappointment in herself rose up and stuck in her throat. All she’d done was add to whatever mistrust the big man carried with him.
Her attention skipped through the next few lines, turning a glance out to where Fremond, her appointed ‘minder’ snored on obliviously as she tried to make sense of the conflict between that action of leaving him to watch over her and Rio’s last written words to her.
…I wish you the very best in life and I hope that you get to turn over that leaf…
On the one hand, he’d cared enough to leave the old sea dog to watch her back but on the other his words came over as cutting ties and setting her loose. Fremond had said his skipper would be back in a month. She wasn’t so sure of that herself. Her tired mind concluded a finality to his words, believing it to mean that it was over before it had really even begun.
A slight movement caught her attention and the brunette glanced up catching the little firelizard egg he’d left her, rocking from side to side in its sandy haven. Despite the fact that she had absolutely no interest whatsoever in owning one of the winged creatures, a thrill of excitement rushed through her.
Pushing up from the bunk she came to her knees, both hands lifting and wrapping around the warm pot of sand, fascination growing as first one and then another crack appeared. Suddenly a shard fell from the side and a sharply formed muzzle poked out, nostrils flaring as it took in the scent of the world beyond. A violent shudder overtook the speckled egg and then the whole thing seemed to explode causing Bailey to jump backward in surprise.
A tiny, gooey little creature painted in muted hues of deep bronze sat staring back at her, its eyes whirling a troubling red as it stretched first one wing and then the other. Before she knew it, the hatchling had scrambled the short distance between sand pot and bunk. Tangling its talons into the front of her skimpy top, claiming her as his human, it shoved its face right into hers, giving the brunette a thorough eyeballing before throwing back its little head and emitting a high pitched kreeling.
Startled, Bailey tried to back away from the hatchling, hands lifting to bat the creature away from her but stilling in mid-air at the sound coming from it. Instead the index finger of one hand lifted to her lips in shushing gesture as she threw a furtive glance toward the curtained archway, “Be quiet or you’ll wake the old man up!” The little bronze wailed a second time, a plaintive note set into its tone.
Frowning, the woman instinctively wrapped a protective hand around the firelizard and drawing it in closer to her chest scooted over to the edge of the bunk. Standing she moved over to a makeshift crate-table where a plate of food abandoned earlier had been left. Picking up a strip of herdbeast off of it she dangled it in front of the hatchling, “You hungry?”
Answer came when the firelizard snatched at the morsel and almost gobbled it down whole. Amusement filtered into his human’s hushed tone, “Careful little guy, you’ll choke.” Another piece of meat offered and consumed with just as much gusto. After a time of snatch-and-gobble, the hatchling’s hunger finally appeared to be sated. With its little belly bulging, it crept slowly upward under her hair until it was draped around her neck with its snout nuzzled against her throat, a contented thrumming sound slipping away as sleep finally claimed him.
Stroking gentle touches along the sleeping creature’s small head, the contrast between his darker bronze skin and her own paler tones drew an ironic smile from the brunette, “Skipper.” Thus naming the new charge entrusted to her.
Pale eyes flickered up to where a small pot of sand heated by a candle from underneath stood on the upended crate next to the bunk and then back down to the sheaf of paper held in her hands. Rolling over onto her side she slowly unfolded it, once again reading through its contents.
…I am just as much to blame for what happened and I should have known opening up was foolish of me…
Lips turned into a squiggled line of discomfort. He’d trusted her enough to have started to let her in and in return she’d gone psycho on his ass when petty jealousy had reared its ugly head. And this after he’d so patiently heard -her- out with no visible judgement attached.
…I told you that I was damaged goods but obviously you didn’t understand just how far gone I am…
She sensed such a history of pain in those few words. Fine brows draw down toward each other as the bitter bile of disappointment in herself rose up and stuck in her throat. All she’d done was add to whatever mistrust the big man carried with him.
Her attention skipped through the next few lines, turning a glance out to where Fremond, her appointed ‘minder’ snored on obliviously as she tried to make sense of the conflict between that action of leaving him to watch over her and Rio’s last written words to her.
…I wish you the very best in life and I hope that you get to turn over that leaf…
On the one hand, he’d cared enough to leave the old sea dog to watch her back but on the other his words came over as cutting ties and setting her loose. Fremond had said his skipper would be back in a month. She wasn’t so sure of that herself. Her tired mind concluded a finality to his words, believing it to mean that it was over before it had really even begun.
A slight movement caught her attention and the brunette glanced up catching the little firelizard egg he’d left her, rocking from side to side in its sandy haven. Despite the fact that she had absolutely no interest whatsoever in owning one of the winged creatures, a thrill of excitement rushed through her.
Pushing up from the bunk she came to her knees, both hands lifting and wrapping around the warm pot of sand, fascination growing as first one and then another crack appeared. Suddenly a shard fell from the side and a sharply formed muzzle poked out, nostrils flaring as it took in the scent of the world beyond. A violent shudder overtook the speckled egg and then the whole thing seemed to explode causing Bailey to jump backward in surprise.
A tiny, gooey little creature painted in muted hues of deep bronze sat staring back at her, its eyes whirling a troubling red as it stretched first one wing and then the other. Before she knew it, the hatchling had scrambled the short distance between sand pot and bunk. Tangling its talons into the front of her skimpy top, claiming her as his human, it shoved its face right into hers, giving the brunette a thorough eyeballing before throwing back its little head and emitting a high pitched kreeling.
Startled, Bailey tried to back away from the hatchling, hands lifting to bat the creature away from her but stilling in mid-air at the sound coming from it. Instead the index finger of one hand lifted to her lips in shushing gesture as she threw a furtive glance toward the curtained archway, “Be quiet or you’ll wake the old man up!” The little bronze wailed a second time, a plaintive note set into its tone.
Frowning, the woman instinctively wrapped a protective hand around the firelizard and drawing it in closer to her chest scooted over to the edge of the bunk. Standing she moved over to a makeshift crate-table where a plate of food abandoned earlier had been left. Picking up a strip of herdbeast off of it she dangled it in front of the hatchling, “You hungry?”
Answer came when the firelizard snatched at the morsel and almost gobbled it down whole. Amusement filtered into his human’s hushed tone, “Careful little guy, you’ll choke.” Another piece of meat offered and consumed with just as much gusto. After a time of snatch-and-gobble, the hatchling’s hunger finally appeared to be sated. With its little belly bulging, it crept slowly upward under her hair until it was draped around her neck with its snout nuzzled against her throat, a contented thrumming sound slipping away as sleep finally claimed him.
Stroking gentle touches along the sleeping creature’s small head, the contrast between his darker bronze skin and her own paler tones drew an ironic smile from the brunette, “Skipper.” Thus naming the new charge entrusted to her.