[i]"So you like the kitchen?"[/i]

Well if it wasn't the one person Arren wanted to avoid the most. Just one of those days. With an irritated sigh, the only visible side of Arren's face tilted up, a sharp green eye piercing into Solomon. Was that a bit of snip in those words? Very well, if he wanted to play it like that.

[i]"So you'd like to gut the fish no?"[/i]

Flipping the large knife in his hand, he slammed it into the wood of the table. A cruel smile crossed Arren Viper's face. It was sarcastic and yet chilling. "Fish ar'n't all," the voice was soft yet just as cold as a wind wind. Argh... What was this? Why was he trying to be friendly? Surely he'd rather get close to one of those slave girls. With a grimace, he glared at the man's things so close to Arren's hammock. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. Did he really have to get along with this guy? He'd rather put a knife through him than play buddy buddy.

Arren glared in surprise as the woman called Gale entered the kitchen. Flipping the knife in his hand, the vegetables scattering over the tabletop. Relaxing, he watched as the woman organized all of the supplies. He'd take the rebellious slave girl over the slimy company of Solomon any day. Hell, if Arren got work in the kitchen, he might just ask her to help. But for now he was stuck with Mr.Hungry Eyes. Gale left the kitchen and Arren trudged off to get his own long kitchen knife from his sack. Snorting at the curt manner he approved of, he kept his hard cold green eyes on Solomon. With a small, almost haughty tilt of his head, he he smirked.

"I don't play well with others," which sounded more like "Aye donna play well wi'h othares" due to the slight accent, even with the whispering voice. The man named Azren came below deck and Arren watched him in a softer interest, compared to that of how he regarded Solomon. Having a bit of trouble with his hammock, Arren suppressed a grin of amusement. Taking off his hat, he tossed it under his hammock and walked pass the two men.

 He turned on his heel and rolled up his sleeves, going back to the kitchen. A tattoo on one wrist, it was a demonic looking mermaid, showing off her shark-like teeth. He wasn't worried about how he looked to that man. He'd rather be putting a knife to something. Even just holding a knife would calm him down. Pulling the red hair to the side, so it still covered half of his face, he tied it with a leather strip and started to examine the kitchen supplies and utensils. Any chance he got, he'd make sure to deck Solomon at least once. Arren relished in the fantasy of it. Man, that swarthy fellow rubbed him the wrong way.