"...Fine."

Part of her just wanted to let them struggle the rest of then night. Part of her wasn't even serious about going to Macario's boat in the first place: she'd just wanted to tick them off. But truth was that Kuhn finally said something almost sensible.

---

"What you're saying isn't sensible."

Lina slumped where she stood, eyes lowered in glare, one twitching. Macario leaned back in his seat at his desk, lit by candlelight.

"Don't give me that look. Go back to bed. And tell the others to keep it down."

"You're saying [i]tear-mites[/i] threw me and Chester off the boat!?"

"You're saying it was [b]ghosts[/b]!"

"No! Maybe. It's something! Just come and take a look before there isn't any more ship to destroy."

Macario let out a sigh, grumbling, "Fiiiiine."

---

"Still think it's tear-mites?"

Macario gawked as he saw the writhing hands, still forming and unforming around Kuhn and Chester.

"Th-they infest boats and make the wood hollow and breakable..."

"And look like hands and faces?"

Macario didn't answer.

Stepping back towards the two, she said, "Okay, Macario's useless. What next?"