The Freedom's Dream sails along over an endless ocean expanse, now darkened by night, save for the glittering stars and the Procession. An unearthly wind howls, threatening hurricane forces, yet only the lightest breeze can be felt on the deck, and the sails are not put out. Toward the rear of the deck, Wynona keeps up her incantations, surrounded by magical runes chalked onto the deck, and a ring of candles. Of the crew, mostly Eeee are abovedecks at this hour. It seems to work out nicely enough to let the bats have the deck during the night, and the half-Vartans during the day … though the Savanites, of course, don't get much choice at all as to when they're needed to be about. Nonetheless, there have, as yet, been no hazards met, no hostile ships sighted … and no coast, either.

Zoltan sits in his cabin amidst bits of cloth and feathers. He has spent the past hour carefully cleaning the two firearms he found in the strange metal bird on Paradys. He makes a point of keeping the noses of the weapons aimed away from anyone while he does this.

The Vartan carefully uses a feather to dust off the chamber of the revolver. "So how you feel abouts us going back to Rephidim, Jezebel?" he squawks absently.

Jezebel turns away from looking out the porthole. Enos and Pouncer aren't running about, but actually sleeping. And once they're asleep, it seems that no noise can possibly wake them. Nonetheless, Jezebel seems careful not to make too much noise as she moves about to where Zoltan can better see her sign. "I did not wish to remain on Paradys any longer."

Zoltan places the weapon down and wipes bits of black oil from his hands. "It a place of many wonders. Death and rebirth, dreams… and many mysteries. Is good to get away, but I hope to go back some day. Shame I no can tell anyone abouts the whole thing."

Jezebel looks to the sleeping cubs, then back to Zoltan. "You will have plenty of chances to tell your story. Do not be too eager."

He closes the weapons up and puts them away, wrapped up in a cloth and placed high on a bookshelf where the cubs hopefully can't reach. "Good point." Zoltan falls back into handsign. "We going to have to think of way to hide them… or explain them. My master Nicodemus might know of way, was planning to visit him when we got back to Rephidim and show him metal shinies I found in metal bird."

Jezebel nods. "This Master Nicodemus sounds like a very special man."

The cheetah looks away, toward the painting of Shokar still hanging on the wall. She just gazes at it for a while.

"He became my father after I turn my real father away." Zoltan says softly. "I was a little snarling beast beat up and left for dead on doorstep of his shop. He take me in, took care of me until I better… and disciplined me when I needs it. Still does sometimes. He never replace Cambio, Zoltan's real father, but he was good mentor."

Jezebel looks back to Zoltan, signing, "Yes, he was." She smiles faintly.

Zoltan goes digging through his pack of metal trinkets and pulls out the tarnished star and anchor pendant. He sits down on the floor and begins to polish it with another rag. The Vartan signs with his free hand, "You have family of you own in Rephidim, yes?"

Jezebel frowns, then signs, "Yes. I have a sister there. Long-Lope. She is known as 'Zorah'. She has done extremely well as a slave, and is very comfortable. She has no interest in my ambitions."

The Vartan sighs to himself as he continues rubbing the tarnish away. "You should think abouts making peace with family. You regret it lots later if you not, I did." He holds the pendant up in the light to examine his handiwork.

The pendant is silver after all, hinted at through bits of the corrosion, but it will take a great deal more work to make it presentable. Perhaps Nicodemus will be able to help, since he has all sorts of useful things for making dull things shinier.

Jezebel looks back to Zoltan, signing, "Peace? I think I shall have to find them all first. I can ask forgiveness, but I have no right to expect any." She looks down a bit, signing, "Yes, I had my reasons. Everything seemed so clear at the time. But anything can be justified."

Zoltan rubs the pendant a bit more to get as much of the blackness off as he can, then rises to his hoofed feet and puts it around Jezebel's neck. "For you. You should have something else to remember island with besides you scars." He goes back to his spot on the floor and sits down, gesturing for Jezebel to sit next to him.

Jezebel looks down, touching the pendant and tracing its lines, before sitting down next to the Vartan and looking up to him curiously.

"Tell me what happened? What really happened when you were younger. Why did you parents dislike magic so?" Zoltan signs.

Jezebel signs, "My grandmother was very diligent in maintaining tradition, and was very powerful in her prime. I cannot really know why my parents feared her so. But she kept the tales of the Priest-King and the glory days of old, and I have found them to be rather accurate." She pauses, then adds, "If you knew those stories, you would not be so glad that the Twelve-times-Twelve walk again."

Jezebel adds, "They feared her, and they did not wish to keep the tradition. She demanded an heir to train in her ways. They would not permit her one. I wanted to keep the old ways, the old tradition. That is why I stole away." She frowns, then signs, "I wanted power. To everyone, I was only a child, and a girl at that, and one strangely touched. But in grandmother's signs, I was a queen. I wanted to be a queen."

Zoltan nods, and gives Third-Eye a reassuring pat on her knee to let her know that none of this changes his opinions of the Savanite.

Jezebel signs, "Once, mother could dance. I know that, though I never saw her do so. She might have even been able to use magic. But she would never admit to it. If she once could, she threw it all away. I could never do that. I would have withered away if you had not restored my magic. It is a part of who I am."

"Why did Storm-Hand not tell anyone that your grandmother's death was accident? And not tell about when Rotten Eye capture you?" The Vartan signs.

Jezebel frowns. "An accident? It was not really an accident. I should have known to stop. Yes, it was a bad decision, and, no, I didn't want to hurt Grandmother. But I risked her life because I didn't want to stop dancing, and she paid for it." She pauses, then signs, "Storm-Hand was only a kitten, hardly at the age to put the situation under deep scrutiny. Grandmother just DIED, after all." Jezebel's hands shake angrily.

"And the Rotten Eye… " Jezebel looks away. "I don't know."

Zoltan squeezes the Savanite's shoulder. "You were just kitten youself. Probably no understood what you doings either." He pauses… then sighs softly. "What abouts you other sisters? You gots no idea where they is now?"

Jezebel wipes at her headband, then signs, "Storm-Hand has her village, Mother is at the City, Father was off in the frozen north – but who knows where now, since Titus is dead. Long-Lope is probably happy in the Temple. The others? I do not know. I had many contacts, but not enough."

Zoltan signs, "Is shame most no-beaks look alike to me. I help you find." He rubs the underside of his beak as he ponders. "Boghaz gave me large share from what we salvaged from ship. Enough to live comfortable for rest of life if I invest and be careful with it. Could live anywhere… funny thing is, I not know where to go anymore."

Jezebel smiles for a bit, then frowns. She signs, "Could you live in the City of Hands?"

Zoltan's feathers bristle out. "But there a bunch of mages there!" He shrinks down and blushes. "Sorry… is just that having three on board ship taken me months to get used to. Not know how I could sleep in city filled with them."

"I try and make you coronation as priest-king though." The Vartan signs, grinning.

Jezebel blinks, then smiles. "If you miss it … then it will simply have to wait until you can come." She grins. "Don't keep me waiting. I can be very impatient."

Zoltan laughs out loud, then slaps his hands over his beak and looks toward the sleeping kittens.

The cheetah immediately frowns. "I was just thinking of you having your own airship … and remembering. I was going to give this ship to you. I could have done it. But I was such a fool. What would you have done, waking up in the morning, to find the ship under command of the former slaves? How could you have smiled, with blood still staining the deck?"

"Somehow, I want to take them with me back to the City. Boghaz is wealthy enough now. He can handle their loss," Jezebel adds, furrowing her brow.

Zoltan frowns and says softly. "If had woken up to find all friends dead, you know what I would have done. Probably died myself in process, but… " He just shakes his head then looks up to the bundled up firearms. "Is longshot… but maybe Captain Boghaz be willing to make trade with Zoltan. Weapons I find on metal bird for slaves on ship."

Jezebel frowns. "A trade? Why a trade? We are not commodities! Our freedom should not be bought with shekels or … " She waves her hands at the artifacts. "… trinkets!"

"I know. But if slaves escape or are taken then they be hunted." The Vartan responds. "You already got taste of being hunted… better little indignities now than lots later. It only for little while, until year is up."

Jezebel's eyes flash angrily, and she shakes a bit, twisting to face away from Zoltan, crossing her arms and holding them tightly against herself.

For once, the Vartan is grateful that he has a voice. "I just trying to help. I sorry for making you mad." He sighs. "It not right, I agree. But rest of world not know that. You a good leader… you want you people to have dignity as much as freedom."

Jezebel slowly looks back, but she doesn't meet the Vartan's eyes. She frees her hands to sign, "I don't want to buy them. I want to free them. Before, I'm not so sure my intentions were so pure. But I can't let there be any cause for anyone to think that I OWN them. Or you."

Zoltan rubs a hand through the feathers on his neck. "Then we gots two choices. Escape and be fugitives… " He looks at the sleeping kittens for a moment as he says that. "… or we ask Boghaz to free them. They kept many from dying while we in Paradys."

Jezebel's shoulders sink a bit as she looks at the sleeping kittens. "I will need to think about this," she at last signs.

"Were Boghaz not such good man, and if not for kittens… I be eager to help you." Zoltan squawks softly. "But Captain did join in you rescue, many of he crew died in attempt. And if we being hunted… it mean bleak life for cubs."

Jezebel looks down. "You're right. It would be so much easier if this were the Rotten Eye … but you're right."

Zoltan scoots back a bit so that he's sitting behind Jezebel. "I tempted to ask you what happen for year you on Rotten Eye… but I gots feeling that it something you trying to forgets." He reaches out and puts his hands on the Savanite's shoulders.

Jezebel's eyes shoot open. (Whether the third one does too, however, is unknown.) She glances sideways, askant at the big Vartan.

The Vartan just grins and begins massaging Jezebel's shoulders. His species is only one quarter feline, and most of those feline traits are buried in instincts. But there is one thing a Vartan can do that is akin to other feline species. They can purr. A deep throaty purr echoes from Zoltan's throat (slightly hoarse, nobody ever said Vartans were ever any good at it) as he rubs the Savanite's back.

Zoltan's ears wiggle.

Jezebel's ears twitch nervously, as does her tailtip, but she does her best to relax at the odd treatment … and the strange sound coming from the big black Vartan. She slowly closes her eyes, surrendering to the massaging, letting the Vartan rub her cares away … at least for a time.

But she still pops an eye open again, a suspicious look on her face … then closes it again, trying to still such reflexive notions.

Surreptitiously, Jezebel takes her tail in her hands … and tries to smooth out the fur without the Vartan noticing.

The Vartan giggles. "Now you see why I turn into big poofball on deck… " he tries to say more, but learns the purring and talking is an acquired skill. His voice chokes off as he erupts into a giggling, coughing fit.

Jezebel snorts loudly, then covers her muzzle with a hand. Her ears wiggle relentlessly.