Rohaan just sort of shook his head and gave a distracted shrug. "Dunno...but I know whenever Berlin stands like an admiral instead of a pirate, somethin's up. Somethin' bigger than just another ship 'cause we just burn those." He said this casually. What else would one do with another ship? "Maybe...I think your lin...ment is gonna have to wait." The boy didn't move yet, but he didn't relax either and stood at the ready for whatever his Captain ordered. The command came even sooner than he thought. -- Berlin waited in suspense as Pieter looked out at the anomaly on the horizon, and though he wouldn't have guessed it himself, Pieter's answer somehow didn't surprise him. That shape would be a dragon, wouldn't it? But then...he'd never once seen a dragon in these parts that wasn't Rohaan. And especially not one on the ocean and not one that...big. He was used to cyradan, which were somewhat small as far as dragon species went, so maybe that wasn't unusual. He didn't know. Really, he didn't know much about dragons, but he knew who did. "Rheoaan!" It was an order. The lad knew it and sprang from Hana's side as a bird and glided from the aftdeck to where Berlin stood, crossing the space in the same amount of time it would have taken him to just reach the stairs if he'd walked. The boy shifted back and landed with a couple steps to stop his momentum and stood alert at Berlin's side. To his surprise, Berlin knelt down to his level. "Drop this and I'll kill you, lad," he said in a soft tone, holding out the spyglass. When Rohaan blinked up at him in confusion, he explained, "There's that dark shape out there, see? Take a look and tell me what you can see." "Me?" "Aye. You happen to be our dragon expert." Rohaan's eyes widened in recognition and he nodded, carefully taking the device and fitting into his eye. He had about as much trouble as Pieter keeping it steady, so Berlin put a gentle hand over his to offer a bit more stability. The man knew that when the boy scowled, he'd found his mark. "It's them! It's the gal..gal..." "Galley, lad. Aye. But the dragon. Is that a dragon?" "Uhm...well it looks like one. But not one I ever seen. It's real big. Like way big. And kinda weird colored but I seen 'em in lotsa colors so I dunno. Can I go? I wanna see it." And more grimly he added, "And I want to get [I]them.[/I]" "There's more than likely live slaves on that ship. Do you want to burn them alive?" Rohaan looked a little stunned; he hadn't thought of that. "No." "Then go look. Don't get in over your head. We'll be on them in maybe an hour and a half or something and we'll engage them properly then. Aye?" "Aye." The young shifter hopped up onto the gunnel and vaulted off it; the boy's shape disappeared behind the side of the ship and what came back up was a cyradan, bioluminescent red stripes pulsing and flashing as he pumped his wings for more speed and altitude. Berlin watched him go and desperately wished he could have ridden on Rohaan's back to see for himself, but the lad was sore already from training and he would be faster and more agile alone. So he watched the sleek dark shape soar off towards the distant one, and when the vokurian was too far to see with the naked eye he watched through the spyglass. -- Uban was perhaps the only person on the ship not at all concerned. He was too exhausted for it. Sending Rohaan out to investigate something wasn't that unusual either, so he didn't give that much thought. He sucked at his lime as he squinted out to the horizon, seeing nothing in particular of note yet. But squinting brought his eyelids even closer together, and they closed. "Mm, right," he said to Wheel through a lime wedge. He forced his eyes back open. Come to think of it, something did seem a bit off. The way Berlin and Pieter were standing made him sure of that. Curious... Unbidden, the memory of the encounter with the turtle came to his drifting mind and he softly muttered the last thing the turtle had said to them, "Watch out for a rotting eel..." Uban fell asleep with a lime still between his teeth and his chin on his chest as his tin mug finally clattered to the deck and rolled away.