After much asking around (taking longer than usual due to the Abu Dhabian style of conversation) the trio has finally located a ship headed for Sylvania – although the term "ship" might be stretching things: The Kestrel is actually a fishing barge. Its hull and sides show the weathering of rough seas and insufficient maintenance, but the sails look heavy and strong, and it flies the flag of the Sylvanian County of Northern Shore.

Tulani examines the beat-up ship thoughtfully. Smiling at the flag, she gestures to the ship and says, "Well, here's our ride!" turning to Arkold and Raneah.

Raneah sniffs approvingly, and says, "I smell fish. Lots of fish!"

The wolf follows behind Tulani with Raneah hoisted up in his arms. "Yeah," he says as he eyes the boat, "no' so new, but, eh, neither am I an' I work just fine. Heh. Sails look good an' sturdy. 'Sides it's pro'ly all we can hope for. You'd think this, uh, Sylvani of yours would have more ships sailin' its way."

The black Sphynx merely shrugs, happy enough to be on her way home.

A large Rhian with the stereotypically "slow" look of the Sylvanian breed sits on the wide deck, methodically untangling a net. He looks up at the travelers with a grunt of greeting. There are signs of activity through a large open hatch that leads to the hold, but no sounds of conversation.

"Why don' you take care of this, eh, Tulani? It's your homeland an' all. Maybe you can get us a deal. 'Sides Raneah is killin' me an' I wanna sit a moment," suggests the Jupani.

"Can I swim for awhile, Arkold?" Raneah asks, eyeing the startlingly blue water.

"Anyone watchin'?" asks the man of the siren he carries. He takes a step back and twists his waist to get a good look at the area and see for himself if anyone is indeed looking their way. "Might be a bi' odd if I jus' dump yah now, eh?"

This part of the waterfront appears relatively deserted, since there are no other boats moored on the pier hosting the The Kestrel. The fact that it is approaching Happy Hour may have something to do with the dearth of sailors as well.

Tulani grins, and turns to the Rhian, calling out in Sylvanian, "Are you headed back home to Sylvania? Do you know if I might be able to get passage on your ship?"

The Rhian looks up, and smiles to Tulani with his big square teeth. "Aye, we's heading back in the morning, captain sez," he admits. "You don't look like no fisherman though, miss. I'm Bort."

Seeing the coast is clear, the wolf walks over to the edge of the peer and kneels down so his great coat drapes over the mercat. While he removes the blanket used to cover her tail, he says, "All right, Raneah. Jus' toss the veil an' I'll pocket it. 'Ere yah go." And with a heave gives her a start on a dive.

Grinning happily, the black Sphynx spreads her wings, and in a hop alights on the deck. "Nice to meet you, Bort! I'm not a fisherman. I usually work as a scout. Do you think I could talk to your captain?"

The Siren leaves her belt-purse and face veil on the pier at Arkold's feet, and rolls into the water with only the slightest of splashes. Her skirts and vest reveal themselves to be part of her body, as they unfurl into wing-like veils once she submerges … and vanishes into the deeper water.

"Yah," Bort says, and stomps on the deck several times with a hoof. A moment later, several golden-furred and spotted faces peer up out of the open hold, followed by a Korv sporting an icy-blue crest of feathers on his head. (A sling cradles his left wing.) "What? We're out of rapierfish; come back in two months!" he squawks loudly at the Sphynx.

Standing, the wolf gives a mock salute to the departing mercat before he turns and strolls down the pier towards the boat Tulani has chosen. As he walks along, he digs out his "legendary canteen of the Expedition" and unscrews the cap for a drink. "'Ow's it lookin' there, Tulani?" he calls out along the way.

A puff of steam and the scent of hot mateh are released along with the canteen cap.

"Dagh's burning heart, it's still hot," exclaims the wolf approvingly. He takes a draught and wipes his muzzle with the back of his hand, muttering, "Handiest thinger I ever bought."

Tulani's happy smile falters slightly at the sight of the Korv's broken wing. "Hello! I would like to gain passage home to Sylvania on your ship for me and my friend," she says in Sylvanian, gesturing to Arkold,"I have experience working as a scout, and he knows a bit about sailing and ships." She shifts back to Rephidim Standard, calling to Arkold, "I'm justasking about passage now." She grins even more widely. "I'm glad you like the canteen. Maybe you'll let me use it sometime?"

"Uh, don' push it," answers the wolf with a grin. He steps on to the boat with a thunk and hands the canteen over to Tulani for a sip. "Don' tell me I gotta listen to Sylvani the whole trip. I speak a few languages but that ain't one of 'em."

Tulani sticks her tongue out at Arkold before sipping carefully from his canteen, and says, "It's nice to get to speak my native tongue once in a while."

"A scout, eh?" the Korv asks, switching to Standard himself. He turns his head to give the pair a good looking at, then asks, "Wanted for anything, or just broke? This is a working ship, not a yacht, so you'll have to pull yer weight and supply your own rations 'til we portage next on the Golden Peninsula. And what're yer names? I'm Mage-Captain Silas Ocho."

The Sylvanian Sphynx says, "Not wanted for anything I know about. I'm Tulani and this is my friend Arkold." She gestures to the Jupani.

"Eh. No one ever speaks my native tongue," grouses the Jupani, "-bu' then looks like we gave it up a long time ago." When he notices the captain giving him the once over the wolf gives another sort of look to Tulani, a "why do they always look at me that way" expression. Then he shrugs and extends his hand to the captain. "I can haul line if tha's what yer thinkin'. Gimme a bit 'o instruction an' I'll do fine. Food ain't a problem either."

"Well, you sure look wanted for something," the Korv caws in laughter, but extends his good wing-arm to Arkold. "I s'pose yer okay, and I could do with someone to talk to 'sides old Bort the Boring here," Silas says. "And you at least look to have some good tales in ya."

"Need a flyer too, anyway," Silas mutters, and looks to Tulani. "Can you spot fish from the air, girl?"

Tulani nods to captain Silas. "Of course! Just tell me if you need me to spot anything specific."

"I ain't no boar," Bort mumbles, but feels the sides of his jaw just in case he's sprouted tusks and never noticed before.

"Yeah everyone wants 'ol Arkold, heh," quips the wolf as he gives the captain a firm shake. "Happy to talk if it ain't Sylvani. Happier still if it's over ale." He grins widely.

The black and white Sphynx just smiles and extends a hand to the Captain as well.

"I'll teach ya what to look fer," the Korv says to Tulani, then realizes something as he shakes her hand. "We ain't got private bunks, missy, but the spotties are respectful, so no worries eh? Got no problems with spotties, have ya?"

Four spotted, golden faces are peering up out of the hold now to get a good look at the strangers.

Not the most incredibly private person, Tulani nods happily and says, "No problems whatsoever."

"Don' speak … uh … wiggle spotty either," adds the Jupani. "Don' care much where I sleep so long as it ain't on the deck in a thunderstorm. Those spotties," he jerks his muzzle in the Savanites' direction, " … they yours or the free sort?"

"No slaves on this boat!" Silas squawks. "They's Sylvanian spotties, see? Anyone asks around here and that's what you tell 'em! Don't want no sand-kitties coming 'round trying to steal or buy 'em, got it?"

Arkold gives a leisurely shrug in response. "I don' care one way or another. Jus' curious. And I ain't abou' to go to causin' you any problems o'er it." Then he grins again. "An' I ain't abou' to help no sand-cats."

Tulani ears flatten at the Korv's outburst, before perking up as she smiles to the Savanites and gives them a short wave.

"Good!" Silas says, giving a sharp nod. "And don't go talking to no Mage's Guild snoops neither. Don't need them nosing around, the greedy bastards! Ack, pardon my Galli, miss."

The Savanites wiggle their ears at Tulani, then disappear back down into the hold to continue with whatever they were doing – which sounds a bit like shoveling, really.

The Sphynx cocks her ears towards Arkold, then gives the captain an "innocent" grin. "Did you say something, sir?"

The wolf shakes his head. "Right. No snoops, no slave spotties. Tight ship, eh? Wanted a bi' yourself, eh there Captain Hedge?" He steps past the Korv and further on to ship giving the bird a friendly punch in his good arm as he passes. "Don' worry abou' it."

The blue crest of feathers rises and falls quickly on the Korv, who grins back beakily and says, "Ah, just that you should get yer kit here by midnight, miss. We sail at first light." He turns to Arkold after the jab, and says, "And bring yer own ale, boyo, 'til you prove you can handle sail, eh?" He gives the Jupani a wink as he says it though.

Laughing as he goes, the wolf continues on his self-appointed tour of the deck. "Lucky fer you I travel light, an' so does the miss I'm thinkin'," he calls back. "Ready to go anytime. You too, eh Tulani?"

The deck is covered with rolled up nets and storage boxes, along with the usual lines and tackle needed for a single-masted sailing ship. The deck-house is low and short, taking up the minimum amount of space it can to provide room for the large hold.

The black Sphynx grins and nods, shifting her wings a bit to settle the feathers. "When the ship's ready, so am I!"

The next morning, there is the usual flurry of activity required to launch a boat within a crowded harbor. Arkold helps Bort with the sails, while Tulani flies ahead and signals back course changes to Silas up atop the mast – who then relays instructions back down to the crew. After a good hour of effort, The Kestrel finally makes it clear of the harbor and out into the sea lanes, heading west towards the tip of the Golden Peninsula.

Once Tulani is back on deck, Silas brings out a slate and some chalk to begin teaching her how to recognize the silhouettes of certain kinds of fish from the air.

Tulani attends the captain lesson closely, occasionally asking small questions.

A pair of young-adult Savanites lean on the starboard rail,occasionally pointing and signing excitedly to each other, while Bort sits on the deck nearby with his back up against the deck-house and inspects various bone fishing hooks.

Arkold had been keeping himself busy practicing with the lines as he had been shown earlier. Right now, however, he sits with a length of the line across his lap and his hand to his forehead, his jaw strained and his muzzle curled in a grimace.

"Y'okay, fella?" Bort asks the Jupani, then glances off at the water when the Savanites get excited again.

"Once we get to the deepest bit of our course, we'll see if you can spot any rapierfish," Silas tells Tulani. "They should be migrating back to the Vykarin Sea now, but there's always stragglers."

Tulani flicks a worried glance at Arkold's obvious discomfort, cocking an ear towards him, half turning to ask, "Are you alright, Arkold?"

"Jus' old pain s'all," mutters the wolf. He clenches his eyes shut for a moment and gives his head a hard shake. Beads of sweat flick from his brow at the motion and when he opens his eyes again he looks a bit nauseous. "'ll be okay. Jus' lemme sit here a bit, eh."

"Too much grog last night?" Bort suggests, grinning wide before going back to mending hooks.

Turning back to the Captain, the black Sphynx nods and then moves towards Arkold, looking worried. She lays a hand sympathetically on his shoulder before preparing to take off.

The Jupani jerks at the hand and peers back over his shoulder at the Sphynx. Facing her it becomes obvious to Tulani that the wolf's eyes are bloodshot. Glittering in his hand is the silver sphere pendant that he bought from Punja. "I'll be fine," he repeats with a less than convincing grin.

Still looking worried, Tulani nods and squeezes the wolf's shoulder, checking to make sure no one will get smacked with her wings before taking off with a soft flap.

After watching the Sphynx ascend for a moment, the wolf returns to hunching over in apparent discomfort.

As she climbs into the air, Tulani can make out the silhouette of Raneah pacing the starboard side of the boat. The mercat briefly breaks the surface, causing another bark of excitement and much pointing from the two Savanites that have been trying to spot her.

The wolf gives a ragged breath of relief before he slowly stands. Once up, he tucks the amulet in his hand in to his shirt and gives it a good pat. "'Ow long you think it'll be 'fore we reach Sylvani, an' s'it always this 'ot out thisway?" he asks the Rhian as he runs the back of his hand across his sweat dampened forehead.

Ranging out a ways from the boat, Tulani smiles briefly at the commotion caused by Raneah and begins going through a mental catalog of fish shadows, trying to find anything that matches up with the captain's description of rapierfish.

"Twenny days, usually," Bort replies, then shakes his head at the excited Savanites. "We make a few stops along the way, but try to keep up with the rapiers mostly. Ain't that hot, but it'll cool more once we round the peninsula."

A few silver flashes under the water half a league ahead of the Kestrel are probably a school of zipperfish, but there aren't any signs yet of rapierfish. Still, Silas did say they hunt zippers, so if any are about they should come after the school eventually.

"Great," says the wolf. "Mus' be all that time in Abu Dhabi. I'm thinkin' hot, an' it's clingin' to me." With a shrug of his shoulders he lets his coat slide off onto an arm before he tosses it in a corner of the deck. As he does he seems to spot the Savanites making a commotion and this draws him to come over and have a look. As he nears the two felines, he inserts himself between them and lets his arms fall on their shoulders. "So what'er we lookin' at?" he inquires of the two curiously.

Tulani waits a while longer scouring the sea with her eyes for any other signs of life before circling lower towards the Kestrel, and calling her find out to the captain.

Both felines sign excitedly to Arkold, with lots of grinning and pointing towards the water. The signs are just so much finger-wiggling to the Jupani though.

From the Korv's Nest atop the mast, Silas caws down, "Get the net ready! Might as well catch us some bait!" Using his good arm and his taloned feet, the Korv captain slides down a line to the deck, and calls to Arkold to pull in some sail.

"You don' say," remarks the wolf at the finger wiggling. After a moment of straining over the gestures, he follows their gaze and notices Raneah out there causing a stir. "Oh, 'ey. Y'know the beauteous mermaids fill the sea an' lure sailors with their siren songs. 'Course maybe you two're thinkin' she'll sign us some poetry eh?" He pulls on his arms to lightly cause the felines' heads to bonk against his shoulder in good-natured gesture of ribbing.

The cheetahs boggle at Arkold for a moment, then dash off to help Bort with the net. The other two Savanites take up positions at the bow, trying to spot the school of fish ahead while Silas begins turning the boat to follow Tulani.

The wolf chuckles as he follows the felines over to the net and bends down to help with it. "Jus' don' catch any mermaids. I 'ear it makes 'em cranky," he insists with a grin.

The Sylvanian Sphynx circles lower, closer to the spot where the school is swimming, but ready to return to the boat and help if needed.

The large net is cast, and the sails furled while the captain circles the school. From her high vantage, Tulani can also spot Raneah helping out by herding the fish into the net.

"Bad luck to net a mermaid," Bort agrees, keeping an eye on the net as they encircle the zipperfish.

"It's a good thing I actually like fish," remarks Arkold to the rest of the net team. "Gained a taste for it durin' my time at sea." He nods to Bort's comment. "Yeah, ba' luck. Then you gotta hear about it, an' make up for it, an', uh … nevermind, eh? Heh."

As if by magic, a lone zipperfish arches through the air and smacks Arkold in the face!

Smiling, the black Sphynx heads back for the deck thinking, "I always did like fish!" and stifles a laugh asArkold gets slapped on the muzzle by a zipperfish.

"Ow! Son of a … " The wolf reels at the sudden strike and stumbles to fall on his rear. He lets loose a string of incomprehensible curses followed by a mutter of, " … sometimes the sea 'ears you and hits you with a fish."

Since the school of fish is small, it doesn't take long for the net to be closed around it. Bort and the Savanites strain their backs, pulling on the lines that close off the bottom before the net can be hauled back in. While they are engrossed in this, Raneah breaches off to the side of the ship to wave at Tulani before submerging again.

Tulani grins happily, giving the mer-cat a short return wave before landing back on the deck.

The flung zipperfish thrashes about in Arkold's lap, its silvery body bisected by a zigzagging line of glowing spots that give it its name.

The wolf tries to grab the fish but only succeeds in causing the slippery fish to shoot from between his hands and into the air where it lands several feet away on the deck. "Eh, see – I'm a fish magnet," he remarks as he stands back up.

Chalk in hand, the captain vanishes into the hold. Oddchanting can be heard from below-decks even as the rest of the crew begin to haul in the catch.

Apparently feeling the need to make himself useful in a manner that doesn't require fish miraculously impacting his face, the wolf steps over to help the other sailors haul in the line.

One of the Savanites breaks from net-hauling as Arkold steps in to help, and gestures to Tulani to come over by the hatch before disappearing down into the hold himself.

Bending to pick up the thrown fish the black Sphynx uses her claws to keep a better grip on it, eyes narrowing at a sudden chill that runs down her spine. She quickly follows the Savanite down into the hold.

"So, uh, the cap'n takin' a breather? Can' blame him, it's scruddy hot out 'ere," inquires Arkold as he draws the fish-laden net further on to the deck.

Down below, the captain continues to chant while standing inside a magic circle chalked onto the floor of the hold. Large holding bins line either side of the hull, and two opposite ones appear to be filling with ice! Meanwhile, the Savanite begins to set up a wooden sluice, and gestures to Tulani to take one end up to the deck.

Lifting one end, the Sphynx carries it back up onto the deck as directed, where she pauses to cast another slightly worried glance in Arkold's direction.

As the net is opened, hundreds of zipperfish flop across the deck. The Savanites quickly move into action though, picking up curved wooden paddles to sweep and shovel the fish into the end of the sluice that Tulani has gotten into position.

Arkold runs his hand through his hair as he watches the Savanites herd the fish into the sluice. Helpfully he boots a nearby fish in the proper direction.

While the Savanites shovel fish into the hold, Bort begins shaking the last few captives from the net, pausing only a moment to look past Arkold's shoulder before another fish smacks the wolf in the back of the head. The Rhian gives a snort of amusement before going back to work.

Tulani watches the Savanites work for a moment before making her way around the pile of fish towards Arkold.

The wolf's ears perk as Tulani approaches. "Yuh?"

Tulani picks up the new offending fish and tosses it towardsthe sluice. "The creatures of the sea really love you, don't they?" she quips to him, grinning … but then she shifts to a frown. "Are you sure you're alright? You look awful."

"Yeah the whole sea loves me," Arkold says with a grin that quickly fades. "Well, uh, I am feelin' a bit hot but," he shrugs, "I'm not as young as I used to be, eh? Maybe I'm sick'r somethin'."

The black Sphynx stares blankly at Arkold for a minute before leaning over to rap on his head with the back of her knuckle, saying "Is anybody at home in there? If you're not feeling well or think your sick, say so! It would keep me from worrying as much," she ends with a smile.

The lupine's forehead does feel a bit warm when Tulani touches it. Not quite feverish, but pretty close.

Arkold winces at the knock and rubs his forehead with mock tenderness even as he grins. "Alright, alright. Yeesh! Y'are worse than Raneah. Bu' look, I'm jus' a bit hot eh? And, uh, well I've been cuttin' back on some of the, ah, spice y'see. An' tha' can be a kicker," says the wolf.

"Good haul!" crows the captain, as he reemerges onto the deck and surveys the diminishing pile of fish. Bort leans against the rail, puffing on a pipe while waiting for the net to dry out a bit more.

Tulani frowns at Arkold, "You be sure to get lotsa rest, ya hear? I'm not doing your work too," she says breaking into a weak grin.

"If I'm gettin' lotsa rest than someone's gunna be doin' my work anyway," replies the wolf. He glances past the Sphynx to the captain for a moment before looking back andoffering, "Look, I'll turn in early if I can manage it, all right? Prolly got some Abu Dhabian sand-kitty bug from tha' old hotel. I'll be fine, yeah?"

The last fish is dropped down the sluice, and the Savanites stow the shovels away and begin to disassemble and wash down the wooden trough.

Nodding to the Jupani, the Sylvanian watches as the last fish are scooped away.

"Good work there, Tulani," Silas says as he walks over to the pair. "Sharp eyes ya got."

"So, uh, what was Cap'n Feathers doin' down there?" the Jupani asks of his fellow. He then nudges her with an elbow at Silas's comment. "An' looks like y'got some eyes, eh, eyes o' a fish."

Tulani whips around to pinch the Jupani's nose for his last comment grinning, "The captain was using magic in the hold to make ice, probably to keep the fish fresh," she says, frowning slightly in thought.

The wolf whines at the pinch and promptly reaches up to rub his nose. "Y'know I'm thinkin' now I'm sick because everyone keeps thinkin' they can prod and smack me," he grouses. "Don' need any more scars, girl. But, eh, magic huh? On a ship like this, that's somethin'. Back onRephidim, magic's no' somethin' modest businesses could afford. Makes me think this 'ere cap'n is either hidin'from somethin' or else 'e's a hedge practicing outside the 'ol Esoterica guidelines."

"Ice magic is my gift," Silas explains, hopping up to perch on the railing. "Also my only talent, and it only works over water to boot. So why should I bother learning more than that from the Collegia, eh, and spend the rest of my life paying for the privilege?"

The Sylvanian Sphynx simply shrugs.

"Don' matter to me, bu' I'm sure they'd explain their point well enough," replies the wolf soberly. "Can see why y'operate out 'ere. 'Course I wouldn't call meself 'mage-captain' quite so much in port, but tha's me. Still, s'right handy gift you got there. A bit 'o magic seems like it'd be 'andy now an' then."

"Sure is," the Korv agrees, then winks at Arkold. "So is having a mermaid around, I bet. Don't think I ain't noticed that, now, even if the spotties think it's some kinda fish."

"Uh," offers the wolf lamely. "Guess we got our secrets, eh?"

"Tell her she can sleep on the deck tonight if she wants," the Korv offers, then hops down off the rail. "But right now, let's get the sail up and get back on course while the wind is with us."

Tulani yawns, smiling as she looks out to sea, thinking of just how beautiful it really is.

Arkold nods. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it. Thanks, cap'n." He runs his hand through his hair again and gives a "how about that" shake to his head. "Heh, birds," he comments, impressed. "Lead on, cap'n!"