Darvick devoted only a fraction of his attention to the dressing-down Mera was getting from everyone at the moment. Right now, it was Mela’s turn, and her voice had taken on a very irritating high pitch. He ran his thumb over his carving gently. “Where are you,” He whispered softly.

Darvick had felt an out-of-place nub and splinter last night but hadn’t been able to find it since then. It drove him mad. Tracing his thumb over the wolf’s head, he found another small nub near its eye. “Damn it,” Darvick shook his head and kept his thumb on the spot. Drawing his whittling knife, he slowly brought the blade towards the imperfection.

The blade sinks into the softwood slowly. Darvick works it patiently and diligently in strokes to rid the nub from his latest carving. As the fourth incision begins, he hears and feels someone coming over to him. She sits down in a huff and leans her head on his shoulder. Mela has done this enough that he doesn’t even flinch or lose concentration. “You get everything out?” He asks while she reaches into his belt for his flask.

“Yeah, sometimes I swear she doesn’t use her brain,” Mela replies and deftly takes a sip from the flask. “Yuck! What is this?” She catches herself before throwing the flask away. Darvick takes his knife from the wolf and points at the flask. “Rum, spiced rum specifically. Cost me a few good coins, so don’t go throwing it away now,” Darvick carefully plucked the flask from Mela’s hands. “The one you are looking for is on my left hip today,” He says while putting the flask back. “Better be good then,” Mela says in a huff while grabbing the flask.

Darvick simply shrugs and finishes getting the nub removed from his carving. Mela smacks her lips loudly, “Oh, it is good. You know how to treat me well.” She leans her head back onto his shoulder. “I know to treat you well because the last time I didn’t, you made it, so I was nearly constantly itchy in my armor. While we were about to go on parade duty,” Darvick said while still running his thumb over the wolf. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mela smirk, “No, that was Mera after you gave her of your ‘delectable’ pieces of chicken. I was the one that undid that.”

Darvick shook his head. He couldn’t win with either of them. At least not entirely. It was better to have one of the twins in your pocket in case things went south. Especially if it was from a prank.

Darvick continued to run his thumb over the carving. A tiny pinprick of pain soon alerted him where the splinter was. Careful to not remove his thumb and take the small shard with it, he moved the knife and carved it away. Darvick brought his thumb up for inspection, “Gotcha, finally.” He quickly pulled the splinter out with his teeth and spit it away. “What did you just spit?” Mela asked while sitting up a bit to look in the direction of the projectile.

“Splinter,” Darvick responded nonchalantly. He could feel Mela huff and settle back down, laying her head on his shoulder again. “Who was up next to yell at Mera?” Darvick asked after a moment. Before Mela could answer his question, the very sharp intake of breath from Saida that preceded her yelling answered it. “Never mind, that answers that,” Darvick said while he ran his thumb over the base of the tail. Finally, Darvick had found the nub. Carefully he started towards it with his knife. Just as the blade touched wood, his arm was jostled, causing a large gash to be put along the wolf’s side. Darvick didn’t need to look to know it was Almios who did the jostling by sitting on his open right side.

He heard Almios’ breath catch for a moment as he realized what had happened, “Darvick, oh shit, I am sorry. I didn’t….” Darvick put up one finger to hush the man. Inspecting his carving closer, he followed the lines and the story that could be told through this new gash. “No, actually, I can work with this. Thank you Almios,” Darvick’s response was a barely audible whisper. He could picture the battle that gave this wolf the scar. A jagged spear or sword cutting along its flank trying to cripple it only to fail.

Darvick could hear that Micah was taken aback, “Umm, your welcome?” Darvick didn’t respond but merely continued shaping the wolf and putting details onto its legs and paws. “Micah?” Darvick barely paid attention to Mela as she spoke. “Mela?” Micah responded while leaning forward to look at Mela. “Your Aunt is Lissa’s mom, right?” Mela asked while sipping from the flask again. “Yeah, why?” Micah responded while Darvick carefully detailed a nail.

“I noticed the other night when I walked by Lissa’s room that she was talking to herself. About her mom and family, did something happen?” Mela leaned off Darvick’s shoulder and looked at Micah now.

“No, not that I know of….” Micah’s voice trailed off for a moment, “But I haven’t spoken to my family in a while. I, I am not entirely sure why maybe it's because, ow!” Darvick, expecting to be jostled, didn’t flinch as Micah’s hand flew to the base of his neck. “You okay, Micah?” Mela asked, standing slowly and walking over to him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a cramp in my neck, I think. Hurts like hell,” Micah continued rubbing his neck while Mela skillfully grabbed the flask of rum from Darvick’s side. Sighing, Darvick put down his knife and carving and looked at her.

“What? He needs it right now to help him relax,” Mela said while pointing with the flask to Micah. “I need what exactly?” Micah asked, clearly confused. Darvick looked at him, “Have you ever had spiced rum before?” Micah shook his head, “No, is it stronger than normal rum or other liquor?” Darvick touched his chin, “No, just different.” Micah took the flask from Mela and undid the cap. Darvick watched him take a full and deep breath of the liquid. “Smells like cinnamon and something else, cloves maybe?” Micah asked while looking at both Mela and Darvick.

Mela shrugged, “It is not my type of drink, so I didn’t really pay attention when I tried it.” Darvick eyed her, “You didn’t try it on purpose. But, to answer your question, Micah, I am sure cinnamon and cloves are used to make it.” Micah nodded and took one small sip. Micah’s face cringed momentarily as he let the flavor sweep across his tongue. Darvick was ready to catch the flask just in case he reacted like Mela would. Micah swallowed, “Gah, well, that is different, and an acquired taste. Thank you, Darvick.”

“No need to thank me, she just didn’t want to share the sweet wine in that flask,” Darvick pointed to Mela, who only gasped and clutched the flask tighter. “It must be special then, maybe for bribery,” Micah added without missing a bit, and Mela gasped again, squeezing it tighter. “Bribery! I would never accept bribery!” She glanced at the flask and smirked, “Well, maybe a little bit of bribery.”

Darvick rolled his eyes and patted the empty deck next to him, encouraging Micah and Mela to sit back down. They did so slowly, each sipping from their respective flasks. Darvick paid more attention to Mela as she sat listening for the sloshing. Judging by the amount of noise, it was nearly empty. Grumbling to himself, Darvick set about continuing to whittle.

Working on the paws still, he shaped the nails with the tip of the knife. Darvick barely breathed as he slowly and meticulously gave individuality to his creation. “You could always make this go faster by using a Focus, you know,” Mela finally said after a silent few moments. “I could, but where would the joy in that be?” Darvick pulled the knife away from the wolf slowly. “I enjoy taking my time carving these. Working with the wood to make what I want instead of shaping it and forcing it to my will.” He pointed the knife at her, “How do you feel using healing supplies that were just made by someone throwing ingredients together and using magic to make them into what you needed?”

Mela opened her mouth to respond, shut it, and then opened it again. “I would not really trust it. It could be shoddy work or have imperfections they didn’t know about,” She whispered. “Exactly! While it does take skill to shape stone, wood, or other things with a focus, you lose out on the details,” Darvick smiled. It had taken him a while to find an example of something that could possibly change Mela’s mind. He was glad it seemed to work. Darvick pointed to the head of the wolf where a dark, jagged line ran across its muzzle, “I will be telling my little cousins that this wolf got this scar from being foolish and sticking its snout where it didn’t belong. I wouldn’t be able to tell them that kind of story if I shaped this wood into what I wanted.”

Darvick ran his hands over the wolf, tracing each carefully placed cut, “It’s something I can bring home. They can’t get anywhere else.” Darvick felt his voice trail off as he drifted towards home. How long had it been? How many stories did he…. Abruptly his neck spasmed, and he nearly jerked the hand holding the knife to his neck. “Damn it,” He muttered slowly, moving his hand to the spot and rubbing. It was a red hot poker of pain and drew his full attention. “Darvick, are you alright?” Micah and Mela asked nearly simultaneously. “No, my neck cramped. I think I spent too long looking at my carvings,” Darvick stood, slowly stretching. A few cracks of his spine later, and he felt a little better.

“There you are,” Darvick heard Saida say, just loud enough for him to hear as she stomped over. Sighing in defeat, he quickly snatched the flasks from Micah and Mela. Micah wanted to protest, but he must have seen Saida’s face as he said nothing.

On the other hand, Mela looked to Darvick, who was packing his bags, and then to Saida, “Not fair I was enjoying drinking his….” Darvick’s heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her protest, along with the glare from Saida. “Do we already have rooms?” Darvick asked while Saida stopped a few meters away. “Yeah, we got rooms,” Saida curtly responded while heading to a door that more than likely led below deck. “Are you going to be okay? She, umm, she doesn’t seem happy,” Micah asked while his eyes darted from Darvick and Mela to Saida’s back.

“I’ll be fine, though if you don’t see me when we eat later, then start worrying,” Darvick said, chuckling, and followed Saida into the belly of the ship. “Will he be fine?” Darvick could hear Micah ask Mela as he walked away. “Don’t worry. He should be. Come on, I can hear Mera….” The rest of Mela’s words were lost on Darvick as he went into the ship. He saw Saida just ahead of him turn a corner sharply and sighed. Darvick knew then he would have to at least jog to keep up with her. Saida slipped past dozens of different hallways and doors, going down at least three decks before stopping.

“Are you just letting me catch my breath?” Darvick asked while taking deep breaths to calm his heart. “No, this is my room,” Saida said and then pointed to the door behind her, “That one is yours. Which would you prefer?” Darvick raised an eyebrow, “Depends. Are you just going to vent, or do you want me to actively participate?” Saida shrugged, and Darvick rolled his eyes. “My room then, are they locked?” Darvick glanced to Saida, who shook her head. Stepping to his door, he opened it and saw the room was more extensive than he thought.

Barely three by three meters but still enough to accommodate a decent bed, a table, chair, and small dresser. Sighing, Darvick walked over to the table and opened his pack. He slowly and carefully started taking out the figures he carved while Saida stepped in. “Are the rooms soundproof?” Darvick asked while hearing her shut the door. “Don’t know, don’t care,” Darvick heard her walk behind him and then sit on the bed. It creaked loudly. He hated creaky beds. “You can start. I am listening even if I have my back to you,” Darvick set the wolf down gently on the table and heard Saida sigh.

“I don’t understand her sometimes! What can go through her head thinking that someone can just break down a door, not leave a note that they did it, and then just scamper off with someone recovering from being injured? It’s just ugh!”

Darvick heard Saida clenching her fists tightly around the sheets of the bed. “I know she meant well, but damn it if I didn’t die of a heart attack when we went to get them! For fucks sake, we really haven’t had anything go right on our trip out here, and then everything we thought was wrong and me almost killing Lissa. It’s just too fucking much!” Saida hit the bed, causing it to creak even more. “And these nightmares are just getting too much, Darvick. I had to go out and by sleeping draughts to keep myself asleep.” Darvick stopped pulling out the last figure. His hand held it gingerly. “About when you first came to my village or what you did to Lissa?” He asked, putting the figure slowly on the table and setting down the pack.

Darvick turned slowly and saw Saida staring at the floor. “Both,” Saida released one hand and raised it to touch her earrings. “They were both my fault if I wasn’t so stupid on both occasions, I,” Saida became silent, her fingers fiddling with her ears. Darvick frowned and walked over and sat on the bed next to her. He placed one arm around her, holding her gently. “You wouldn’t be here, you know. You can dream and imagine all you like about the past and what you could have done, but you can’t change it. At any rate, you did the right things, and that is what matters.” Darvick turned his head to look at Saida, who was chewing on her lips.

“Did I really, though? My dreams, no, nightmares say otherwise. If I hadn’t let that boy into my home, my family would still be here, and if I hadn’t been stupid or even just a bit faster, Lissa wouldn’t have gotten hurt. There are so many more ‘right’ things I could have done!” Saida slammed her hands so abruptly onto the bed it made Darvick flinch. He could feel the tingling build-up of Aether on Saida. Darvick rubbed Saida’s back slowly, “How can I help you?” The question was simple, but simple questions were always the best in these situations. “I don’t know, maybe just be here for me like you normally are?” Saida was then silent for a moment before speaking again, “Do you have something to drink?”

“Yeah, you want something really strong or more palatable?” Darvick moved his hand from her back and put his hands on the flasks. “Strong,” Saida took the hand still holding onto the bed and held it out.

“You might not like it, but here ya go,” Darvick said while smirking and handed her the rum. Saida opened the flask and took a whiff, “Smells strong bottoms up.” Darvick’s smirk turned to a shocked frown as he watched her drain the flask in a few mouthfuls. Smacking her lips, Saida handed the empty flask back to him, “That was interesting. What was it?” Darvick put the flask to his ear and shook it, just to make sure it was indeed empty. He heard nothing but the tinkle of a few drops left, “It was some spiced rum, and I am glad I bought a whole bottle of the stuff. Do you want some more?”

Saida shook her head, “I am good, but thanks. I feel a bit better but still want to vent. So you may as well get out the rest of your stuff.” Darvick looked at her, “At least make sure you keep an ear out for the galley to open.” Saida smirked, “I’ll try.”

Saida spent the next few hours venting to Darvick about her frustrations and fears. The nightmares she was having, the restlessness and unease that accompanied them. Thankfully she had kept her promise, and they didn’t miss the lunch bells. After eating, they both made their way to the top deck and leaned over the railing. They both stood there quietly watching the last of the Emissaries and goods be loaded onto the ship. Soon the ramps were stowed and hatches secured. Darvick and Saida turned to the large crystal to their left and watched as two older Emissaries held their Focuses into slots.

Darvick knew they would charge and activate the crystal to get the ship in the air. He didn’t realize how loud it would be as the crystal itself vibrated, causing a deep and loud thrum to fill the air. Soon the crystal stopped shaking and then flashed brightly for a moment before the noise increased. Darvick felt his stomach sink as the ship moved upwards slowly. “You are going to send a letter to him, aren’t you?” Saida’s question caught Darvick off guard, and he abruptly turned to look at her.

“What?” He asked, momentarily confused. The thrumming from the crystals and the sinking stomach gave him a horrible headache and nausea. “You are going to tell my father about this, aren’t you?” Saida said again, looking at Darvick square in the eyes seemingly unaffected by the noise and movement. “Of course I am. He asked me to keep an eye on you, and it's not like you tell him anything,” Darvick retorted.

He never understood the relationship Saida had with her father. But who was he to judge? Saida scoffed, and her eyes darted over Darvick for a moment before looking back at him. “For good reason, but I am going to lay down now. If anyone needs me, just have them get me from my room,” Saida said while pushing off the railing and walking away. Darvick pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “Why can’t you ever be simple?” Turning on his heels, Darvick followed after Saida a few moments later. He wasn’t going to stop her, but he needed to go to his room regardless. He had a lot to write about, after all.