Pieter chuckled and took another sip of the gin, "Don't worry lad. No need to take the helm just yet." Red cheeked, he passed the flask to Uban, "You're fine at the oars." --- Once they had returned to the [i]Borealis[/i], Pieter went to his captain, pausing only to retrieve the bottle of soldiers wine he'd stashed behind a stack of ropes. Uncorking the bottle with his pocket knife, he tipped the bottle back, organizing the report in his head. "We're sailing south three days to a small island. They have nine galleys, though one of them is bigger than the rest. The waters around them smell of blood." Handing the bottle to Berlin, he looked down to the sea. "The lad... Handled it. We were lucky, the turtle was a happy drunk. We got what we wanted, we made it back alive. I'll call that a success. It's a start." He grew quiet. --- Hana leaned back from her desk, closing her eyes. She was trying a new method to apply the enchantment. Well. Really, it was a cantrip to shine your shoes that she'd modified to work on the sails. Well. It would work. She just had to make sure. Just a double check of the grammars. Which meant recalculating every spell variable. Which meant that she'd been bent over her small desk, scribbling equations on her paper. But now none of it was making sense. A dull ache had formed between her eyes and it grew worse everytime she looked at her work. She needed a break. A sullen, stubborn voice in her head insisted she work through it. It wasn't very loud, and it gratefully shut up when she stood up and left her room, prowling the ship for company.