Rohaan's face screwed up tight like Wheel had just offended his ancestors. Indignantly, he shouted, with his little fists balled up and punched down at his sides, "I WOULD NOT!" He muttered in vokurian under his breath and then put a snarl on his face that was not quite the venomous one he once gave Hana, but defiant and cunning, and there was a gleam in his eyes. He had now been presented with a challenge, and he was more than game to conquer it. When his momentary flash of indignant anger cooled, Rohaan smugly folded his arms and challenged, "Weak as shit, huh?" He snorted, and then suddenly there were two of Wheel, but one with lapis lazuli eyes. And, in a perfect imitation of mannerisms and intonation he challenged, "Say that again." The idea of not having muscle to Rohaan seemed silly. If he wanted muscle, he could simply get it. He did not have to gain it in the same way others did--at least in the short term. What mattered far more, and he knew this very well, was the reflex and muscle memory. His point made, Rohaan reverted back to himself and watched Wheel scoop up a belay pin and toss it at him. His quick hands snapped out and caught it. He hefted the thing, judging its weight, but he kept giving Wheel a look that very clearly said 'is this supposed to be hard?' Though he understood what Wheel was trying to do, at least to some degree, Rohaan noted that the man clearly did not understand how shifters worked. As a dragon, he regularly carried Wheel's bulk without trouble, and so now this piece of wood, this mere splinter to a dragon, was supposed to be a challenge? But that wasn't the point and he knew it. Eager to prove himself, Rohaan thought through which form would suit his needs best but would also prove that he had some steel. A cyradan was too easy, but a sparrow or swallow would be physically impossible. As Wheel stalked off, Rohaan nodded to himself and with the pin in hand, took a running start, vaulted over the gunnel, and swept away as an eagle with the belay pin clutched in his talons. Uban watched him go, wondering absently what it must be like to have no concept of fear of falling or drowning. He was comfortable both at heights and in water, but not like Rohaan, who had them all beat in that regard. There was no risk in it for him, no reason not to push limits. And then, thoughts beginning to wander, he mused about whether or not a vokurian had ever drowned. He was debating this silently to himself when Hana approached him. Uban turned and gave his signature crooked smile. It was almost reflexive for him, though no less genuine. That was simply how he was. "Aye, whatcha need?" he answered her. --- Berlin was near the bottom of his mug again before he even showed signs of melting. Since the incident with Wheel, Rohaan, and the boot, he hadn't given himself to relaxing and was quite literally waiting for the other shoe to drop. He watched the two argue apparently, though again he saw no signs of escalation and that was the only thing that kept his ass in his seat. A fight between those two could be--WOULD be disastrous. This was a concept Rohaan did not seem to understand, despite the many times Berlin had tried to explain it to him. Either that, or, as Berlin suspected, he knew but willfully wanted to see how far he could push it before it reached a breaking point. The liquor, consumed very quickly, was beginning to catch up with him now--just a bit--and he set the now empty mug down on the barrel a little harder than he meant to, like the barrel had risen up to meet his hand unexpectedly and was not where he thought it ought to be; it gave a small thud. Berlin let his head rest against the prow behind him and reflected for a moment on how much he liked the sound of creaking wood and rattling rigging hardware. "You know...days like today I complain about the stress of being responsible for a ship, even one so small as ours. But truthfully, I'd get bored without it. Found that out the hard way when I tried retiring some years ago, just before I got the Borealis." He patted the timbers affectionately like the ship was a trusty horse. "Never did tell you much about that short stint on land, did I?" He gave Pieter a smile that was soft but almost roguish. That bloomed into a full grin, and then to a sort of embarrassed laugh. "I had wife once. Did I ever tell you about Adrienne?" -- Rohaan had been out longer than he imagined he would have been, and it was some time indeed. But he did return, still holding the pin in his talons and did a few circles over the Borealis before finding Wheel in the darkness and sweeping down as if to dive-bomb him. But instead he pulled up sharply and let go of the belay pin, sending it swooshing at Wheel so that it bounced off his back. It wasn't dropped from a height that it would cause any lasting damage beyond a bruise, even to Uban or Pieter, but to Wheel it would be irksome at worst. The bird swept back around, landing on the gunnel where it grew to be a boy; he sat breathing hard but looking quite smug as he pointed and said, "Oi, that way, Uban. There's an island with some animals there that would be good hunting." He had a hungry gleam in his eye--and a growl in his stomach. Rohaan wanted food, and then he wanted sleep, as he hadn't gotten much to begin with the night before and shifting long term took lots of energy.