To be fair he [i]had[/i] been warned about potential seasickness before boarding. But he'd brushed it off - it was his first time on a boat, how was he supposed to know he'd become seasick? He was fine in carts, but boats seemed to be his downfall. Staring down at the putrid bile floating on the sea's surface he nearly retched again, pulling himself away from the railing and laying out, sprawl on the ship's deck. Ethan just wanted land again. Something solid to stand on. With a groan he laid his head back, staring up at the clear sky above, trying perhaps to find something to fix his gaze on. The Ydra woman had said something but he'd missed it, and asking her to repeat didn't seem like a good idea - she'd sounded rather angry she'd even been addressed. Why were people so anti-social on this ship? You couldn't avoid interacting on something so small, so you might as well make the best of it.

"H-Hey... That pet of yours... It's really cool!" Since he'd be laying here for the foreseeable future, and with no one else around, he went against his better judgement and started to speak again. At worst the woman would speak to him and he'd be able to have a somewhat pleasant conversation. Or perhaps he'd make a friend on this final leg of their journey - he'd not hold his breath for that one. Ethan craned his neck to look at the woman, flashing her an uneasy smile and giving another small wave. "Ethan, by the way. Sorry you had to see that, but uh... Better out than in, my mother always used to say! Though at this rate there won't be much left to come out..."

Was that too much information? It felt like too much information. Smiling sheepishly, Ethan raised an arm and laid it over his eyes, his other hand resting on his stomach as he belched. "If you don't mind my asking... What are you on the ship for...? It's just you seem kind of, well... Not like the sort of person who usually does this." He let out a laugh when realizing the irony of his own words: he was just as new to this experience as the woman, if not more so. Next time he was definitely taking a horse, he didn't care if it took him an extra day or two. "Heading to Galloway for work, kind of excited. Never been there, heck Orosi was the biggest city I've ever seen. Well... Second. Probably." For someone he was positive had no desire to speak to him, Ethan sure was pressing his luck. But what was there to do besides chat?

That they should have to work with someone as useless as Ethan. Kent couldn't decide if the kid's heart wasn't in it or if he was really just that hopeless as a Hunter. He'd drawn the short straw and the argument made was asinine: Ethan needed experience. It was their handler's fault for never allowing the kid on any real missions. Once they arrived in Galloway he'd come up with some excuse to send the novice off - probably some list of errands, anything to get him out of the way while work was done. Their mark wasn't going to be an easy one to bring in and they needed combat ready Magi, and people who were used to containing fights, not letting them spill into the streets. Ethan couldn't contain his damned lunch, much less a magic duel.

Kent had been his way below deck when he caught wind of something peculiar. On his way by the kitchens he overheard a conversation that piqued his interest, and without a word he leaned against the wall, standing just outside the doors. The smell he recognized immediately - not the stew, but what was [i]inside[/i] the stew. His face contorted into a scowl and he folded his arms across his chest tightly. Simple-minded people, taking part in drugs aboard a ship. And leave it to a Naga to be the perpetrator, he'd been right to refuse the bastard's food earlier. Kent listened to the conversation further, seeing if he could glean anything of importance from it. Nothing but idle chatter and pleasantries, though he was further annoyed by how idiotic the Naga sounded. He was right, no one was going to hire a man like him. Certainly not after people found out how he prepared his food. The Hunter was no fool - he knew plenty of influential people used drugs like these, and worse still, but he had no use for them. They were the weak's way of getting a hold of the strong, a way for those too craven or without skill to turn a profit.

"I would temper your expectations, Naga. Don't delude yourself with dreams of grandeur." Entering the kitchen, hand on the hilt of the sword at his hip, Kent narrowed his eyes. The boy he didn't recognize at all, probably having spent the entirety of this voyage below deck. He seemed young, arguably far too young to be taking anything of the sorts. Glancing at Gideard disdainfully he extended a hand out, nodding towards the pot of stew - the smaller of the two, where the stench was coming from. It took one whiff to confirm what he'd suspected and he dumped it out on the floor, throwing the bowl into the wall and shattering it. "Dump out the entirety of that stew, now. And turn over the coin you've gained from selling it. Unless you'd prefer to speak with the guard when we arrive in Galloway...?"