[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjEwNi43NDkzYmUuU1hwNmVRLCwuMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA/argel-font.regular.png[/img]
[i][url=https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/covers/images/001/108/390/large/puppet-wj-3.jpg?1440231098]~the Lost at Sea.[/url][/i]

~~~[/center]

Even though the flying skiff was quite damaged, it still never ceased to amaze Izzy. A pale hand reached out to touch the magical machinery, now strapped to Gale’s back and no more cumbersome than a fifty foot of thick rope. Perhaps as bulky but nay, not as heavy it would seem. But before she could touch it, she recoiled as Gale half-turned to face her, yet Izzy's hand was caught by the strong, stout WindRider. 

The tall redhead allowed herself to be yanked and pulled up and away from the shores and onto the rocky overhang. The dark bodies scattered below seemed incapacitated and inert, but they were still there; the Hollows did make Izzy fearful regardless of the former Flame’s bravado.   A sigh of relief she let out as soon as she made her way over the rocks and made her way once more through the mushroom fields. 

[center]~~~[/center]

There was much to interject whilst listening to Gale spout off and explain about the devastating Wind God and the dangerous Kith, however, she kept her pink lips shut. The description of the Kith hit too much too close to home in her heart. No, Isabellia did not have children, much to her Mama’s chagrin, but yes, Isabellia could understand the despair of a mother who has lost child to the enemy. A shiver ran down her spine. 

Of course, she knew the ways of raids, terror, and stealing of babes.

[color=7ea7d8][sub]“Yo ho…”[/sub][/color]

As the Unequalled Flame, Captain of The Enchanting and commanding an armada of pirates, such ways were spearheaded by Isabellia Courtana Fauranios. It was her damned job and she did it very, very well. Pale fingers pinched tight at her tricorn hat. She made as if to snug the ol’ thing down over her brow, but it was a hidden gesture. It was a gesture of affirmation in respects to the resolute yet damned pirate at present.

[color=7ea7d8]“Oh they are not called Kith from whence this lass came, Ms. Gale. Not gigantic, they be, but quite monstrous, be they. Yet hidden in plain sight, be they, love. Aye, they take, and aye again one thousandfold, aye, they do take babbies grow 'em into one and the same as they. A blight upon every honest existence they are. 

"And when due time comes, they will be tortured with eternity’s says so, swimmin', lost in the haunted dark of boilin' hell deeps. All in due time, Ms. Gale, but… But do know they keep their own and keep 'em very well they do, I say.[i] They will never stray from the fire. [/i]

"Where I come from, love, of the known terrors, the ones this lass do know of are called Daemon Squalls...”[/color]

She had sobered up some, but by all holiest of holes, did Ms. Izzy ever need a drink at the moment.

[color=7ea7d8][sub]“Yo ho, an’ a bottle o’ rum…”[/sub][/color]

[center]~~~[/center] 

Izzy took to a knee and watched as the ‘girl’ and the griffin traipsed on by. Steely blues narrowed as she gauged the direction of the pair and wondered why they would take to foot if the beast had wings and why take to foot when the Kith lass had magical monstrous powers. Perhaps injury? Perhaps out of magicks? Or perhaps like Gale and Izzy herself, trying to keep a low profile?

Whatever the case, Izzy did not do the same as Gale and cursed internally. A metal weapon is metal and even in the dark neath the stars, any light source, say like a blue one in the distance,  could glint off of it and make keen onlookers aware of your position. Amateurish move was amateurish, but the move was done regardless and so Izzy would have to roll with it.  Besides, perhaps Gale’s blade was probably just as magical as her magical skiff and the blade needed to be drawn so that it could somehow unfold into a gigantic cannon or three? Maybe…? Izzy smirked, half scoffing yet half hopeful that such a foolish idea was not so foolish afterall.

She reached down to her thigh to at least palm her daggers— correction, dammit. [i]Dagger.[/i] Singular. The other one must have been lost during the skiff crash at sea. So instead, she reached down and slipped her trousers and skivvies down to mid-thigh. Slowly and methodically, she very, very carefully extracted her special item. Izzy called it her [i]‘baby unicorn’s horn,'[/i] Mama called it[i] ‘that disgusting dentata.’ [/i]

But whatever the case, it truly was magnificent and did look like a lovingly and expertly carved baby unicorn’s horn. But its magic was not in its art and craftsmanship’s appeal. No, for it was more than just merely an art piece; the tip was sharp and pressure sensitive. 

You see, the baby unicorn’s horn was hollow inside and carried in it what many from her circles would know as ‘[i]Daemon Squall Spice[/i].’  But this was not the trafficked version of ‘[i]The Spice[/i].’ Nay, this was not cut with other such agents to reduce it’s potency. This was the most potent of potent psychotropic Daemon narcotics; it was one-hundred percent pure and would wreck a man for thirteen days straight before lucid moments returned. 

And she hoped that it would do the same to the monster lass and her monster cat-chicken.

Izzy slid her trouser back up to decent levels then made sure Gale was nowhere near the business end of the baby unicorn’s horn.  With a sideways glance she nodded at Gale with a sly smirk and waited for the WindRider’s lead. It was hard not to welcome the heat of anticipation well up inside her. Not everyday one could say they were ready and set to do battle with a Kith and a griffin armed with nothing but sharp metal and illegal narcotic substances.