You step out onto the main deck, and take a moment to breathe in the spray of the zee mist. The false-stars gleam brightly on the roof of the cavern. The wind is strong tonight, your crew hard at work adjusting the sails on your ship.
The Longshanks Gunner is crouching somewhere near you, tying knots and securing the cargo in the violent rocking of your ship. You make your way to her, stopping the sliding of the box as she finished the knot.
The wind howled again, and the Longshanks Gunner grinned at you. “He’s really making a racket up there, ain’t he? I wonder who he’s cursing this time?”
“Aye,” you agree, giving her a grin of your own, and you both share a moment of silence, listening to the distant echoes of Storm shrieking down from the top of the cavern. None of your other crew had been urchins, and they do not understand the beauty of the storm, or the lure of the howling wind.
There is still much work to be done, and both of you cannot spare more than a moment. But later tonight, after the rage of Storm has passed, you will bring the Longshanks Gunner back to your cabin, and you will celebrate yet another weathering of the storm.