[@Dephaistos]
The uneasiness of Kaite's expression gave way from Virtura's compliment. In its place, a strange concoction of confusion and flattery danced across the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks, her thumb easing the cover back open as she looked again before leaving it to him. Ideas of stories to depict the nameless depth of an infinitesimally colossal and conflicting emotion such as 'belief' were exactly the reason why they were soon to dock with this island, to tell a story no creature should hear and even fewer than the nothingness of an empty audience should be expected to believe. 'Luck' simply was, and in its sea swam the nameless idea that all look towards though do not possess the breath to properly call out to.

[color=gray][i]A bottomless curse
A bottomless sea
Source of all power and things that be
My heart in the cradle, I call to thee
O distant fish, may your eyes be on me
Oh Do...you hear...the sea?
A call to the bloodless, wherever they be.[/i][/color]

Kaite looked up from the drawing, blinking as the woman reminded him of the purpose. Snapping the booklet closed just the same as returning to reality, he nodded his head, swallowing hard while they sought to recompose themselves. [color=8882be]"Ah, jeh...vee should all be ready..."[/color] he mused, graciously bowing his head to show respect for her time before she walked off before going about collecting his own effects. He was certain she could become dangerous, capable of inflicting such confliction upon his diction that would cause him to slip in such a way to almost show his hand in this great game the hunters were soon to host. The danger could not be any more ever-present, living as a sheep in wolves' clothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rising from the belly of the ship for the first time in over a week was debilitating at first; the fresh light of the sun coupled with the bittersweet saltiness of the ocean breeze took Kaite back to simpler times as they looked not to the mainland but back the way they came. A dull hazy curvature of a betraying serenity that made up a grey-blue horizon of far-distant storms at sea countless miles away. It was how the world held itself, even if presentable now, storms always loom if you have the luxury to see them. Properly sobered by the open air, Kaite reached into his coat to pull a small vial of amber liquid which he lightly dabbed on a finger before working it into the inside of his scarf. Pressing the cork back into place and sheathing the vial, he turned toward the mainland and the pestilent stench of sin which his eyes sharpened to seek even from such a distance.

The very mild scent of vanilla and mint wafted gently from the hunter as their expression shifted from a vacant fondness that they found while looking towards the sea to a cold, almost weary glare aimed at the mainland. Saberapier sheathed and swinging at their hip opposite of their messenger bag, they tipped their paperboy hat with one hand, lifting the brim of the scarf almost up to their eyes with the other, greatcoat billowing lightly in its completely buttoned state as they crossed the gangplank to fall in step with Virtura and Reynald.
Peeking between the two, they caught the visage of the authoritative figure. Kaite's first hint of intuition was to never take lightly a person who would spend so much time working on their image; ornate with stained black and polished brassed armor, the figure warranted a small reflexive yet momentarily lift of an eyebrow from Kaite who appreciated the attention to detail in how the armor fit the woman's figure. Regardless, they seemed important and the gentleman hunter was glad that his associate, Virtura was the first to break the silence. He slowly slid his hands in the large buttoned pockets of the coat, assuming the figure was in their way for one reason or another which was undoubtedly certain to be explained.