○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○
96th Trial of Ashan, Arc 717Cyrene bay was where the pirate found herself as she wandered into the packed harbor. This place was busier than Ne’haer’s docks, and saw a number of ships coming in and out of the bay. Some were large trading vessels while others were small fishing boats. It was really quite a sight to behold after being imprisoned for such a long time, then cooped up in a manor full of luxurious food, clothing, items, and… things.
Freya took a breath, her heart yearning for a place she would probably never return to… and for a home she would never obtain. Stuffing the surge of emotions back into the bottle of nonexistence, the biqaj made her way over to a shop settled just before one of the docks. The establishment saw a number of men and women clustered up, buying and selling baits, rods, lures, strings, hooks, almost everything one would need to catch any type of creature lurking in the deep. There were also many fishermen there looking for crew to help out for the day’s harvest.
Freya approached an old man settled off to the far end of the shop, talking with two young fellows and holding a parchment in hand.
“Excuse me,” Freya addressed the man, calling green and purple eyes to her blue ones.
“What?” The man’s gruff voice answered back in Rakahi.
Freya squared her shoulders and stood straighter, having been some time since she’d spoken to another like minded individual such as herself and she’d be damned her she was made to look weak. “Listen,” She’d answered, “I was told there were captains here looking for helping hands out on the ocean. I’d like to help you for the afternoon for promise of a fair wage.”
In turn, the man crossed his arms and seized Freya up, telling by her accent that she was of foreign blood. “You’re scrawny,” He muffled thereafter, “Give me your hands.”
Holding her hand out, the fisherman took it and slid his own, calloused, rough fingers over her soft pads. It tickled somewhat, but she didn’t move. Releasing her grip, he shook his head and looked back to the parchment. “You’ve not spent time on a ship, much less the ocean. Go back to where you came from girl, before you get stolen away.”
Frowning, she took a step closer to him and pointed towards the parchment. “You’re the last to depart your ship for the day. It’s because you’re looking for an extra set of hands, right? My hands might not tell the story you wish them to, but I know how to steer a ship. I know how to set the sails given the direction of the wind for faster speed. I know how to set crab traps, oyster traps, how to bait the line and which bait for what type of catch, I know how to tie the hooks onto the line and which knots work most effective with what kind of fish we’re trying to catch, and I damn sure know how to tire a fish out before pulling his unlucky soul from the sea. So please, wait for another man to approach you. I’ll watch.”
Crossing her own arms, she stared the old man down. His lips pressed into a line while his nostrils flared, his eyes shifting into a deep blue just before he looked to the two younger lads and motioned his head toward the door. As they began to leave, the captain turned back, pointing a burly, calloused finger Freya’s way. “One slip up and you’ve lost your wage.”
Giving him a curt nod, she said nothing else as she followed him out.
Word Count: 617
