[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=E395B2]Colette de La Fontaine[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://media2.giphy.com/media/alJBIiG3D5EZO/giphy.gif[/img][/center][hr][hr][center][color=E395B2][b]Location:[/b][/color] Preston
[color=E395B2][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Language -English[/center][hr]

Colette had to admit she was a bit miffed at Fyror's reaction. She apologized purely for her taking charge when she really should have taken a step back, but she did not apologize for asking the other ships if they would be willing to take them on. What were they to do? With safety in mind, how would this small vessel compare to a Naval or Merchant ship? It seemed a smart idea to ensure they would make it to their destination alive and well.

She bit her tongue though. It would not do them well to get into a fight and Fyror did have a point (albeit, a small one). Instead, she settled into her seat and tried her best to close her eyes and rest. Fyror could do his own thing, she wanted off this ship as fast as possible.

However, rest did not come easily. She didn't enjoy travel by boat, but this experience was something a bit more. She could feel...something. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up in attention as if a Queen was passing. She stood up, uneasily, and looked around. Something felt off. Part of her wanted to catch up to Fyror and ask him, but she was also defiant in that nature too. Maybe it was just the weather outside? Surely if something were wrong, the Captain would tell them?