Yin Hu watched the water closely. He didn’t really have a choice. 
Some people would say that he watched the water because cats had a natural hatred for the stuff. Others would claim that his instincts had taken over, and he was looking for fish. A third would claim to know for a fact that manbeasts loved to ride fast things such as ships, and stick their heads off the side and feel the wind. Ten they’d laugh and move along. They were all wrong, and Yin hoped that the trio was going to the tournament, and that he’d be lucky enough to see someone beat the snot out of them. It was very unlike Yin to be so vindictive, but he was in a special situation. 
The reason why Yin was hanging over the railing was simply that he was horribly seasick. You couldn’t tell for the fur, but he felt green and the whole world was rocking in a way that should never happen. To top it off it was Yin’s first time on a ship, and if he had anything to say about it, it would also be his last. Master Gan Fang had insisted upon the ship, saying that last year they’d almost arrived too late, and they’d been attacked by bandits on the way. 
Not that a few bandits posed a problem, most of them had simply picked up a sharp object and fancied themselves fighters… But arriving late was strictly against the master’s character and so it could not happen again. 

After feeding the fishes for a while, Yin felt certain that he could not possibly do so any more and pushed as hard as his muscles would allow in the wooden side of the boat. He’d wrapped his tail around a nearby rope for stability, but even by pulling as hard as he could manage, he could not lift himself up. His muscles were weaker than ever before and his belly, even though it was empty, felt like a big barrel about to tip over. 

“What’s the matter, can’t handle the sea? Hahaha!” 
The voice belonged to a crew member, a rotten kind of man that smelled strongly of sweat, dirt, alcohol and sea. You could easily tell the crew apart from the fighters on the ship. Martial artist over all took great pride in their abilities and wanted to make their school look good. By dressing up they gave the illusion that martial arts were indeed an art form, like painting or calligraphy… Not pummelling your opponent to death with blunt force or ripping joints out of their sockets by manipulating arms and legs. The men of the sea however could not care less. They dressed little better than in rags and some of them had obviously not cared enough about their appearance, or the noses of their passengers, to have a bath before they set out.
The crew man slapped Yin on the back with enough force to overpower the manbeast’s already taxed muscles and sent him straight into the railing with a thud that almost knocked the wind out of him. Saliva gathered in his mouth again, just like it had before, when he was going to throw up, and only seconds later he could feel his stomach turning itself inside out.
The crew man walked away laughing. Off to tell the tale to his buddies, it would be a long trip...