The only thing that had kept Kaga-met from drawing his gun had been the stillness of the other pirates. If it had really been an ambush, they wouldn’t be alive. When it turned out that Millie knew the musketman and left to speak with him, most of the tension left his body. Not all of it, but as he took a sip of the still hot tea, he wasn’t worried it was poisoned. Kaga-met carefully studied each pirate as they were introduced. The woman surprised him, the only mages he’d met before were, loud, with their appearance. His eyes widened when he saw the arc of lightning. He’d never seen anything like that before. The chiurgeons back home would have a field day with him, he thought. If Pieter, the firstmate, had acquired the tattoos he was covered in at sea, he’d been a sailor for a long time. The musketman was named Wheel. Millie had never mentioned him by name. But if that’s how he greeted old acquaintances, that wouldn’t be so surprising. It was a relief to know that there was only one shifter, though that was enough to make him uncomfortable. 

Yawar kept his silent watch. The shifter boy had begun to stare him down. He wasn’t sure why he’d been chosen, but the flies nearest the boy saw how his body moved with his attention, now focused entirely on himself. Yawar slowly turned his head so it looked like he was making direct eye contact, then turned his ‘gaze’ towards the captains, ignoring the boy. Millie knew not to reveal his secret, but his flies revealed that the two were speaking with hands screening their mouths. She didn’t want him to read their lips. Fine. He withdrew the closest flies, turning his attention to form a loose net around the rest of the pirates. He didn’t want the boy to notice the flies, so he kept them low to the ground, only flying in short hops to better reposition themselves. 

Kaga-met glanced at Yawar when Berlin asked for his hand, and seeing the chiurgeon nod, clasped the broad pinkish hand with his slender brown one. “Alright captain, I- My name is Kaga-met ir Sabdul.” And when he tried to clap his hands together, the one still holding the mug sloshed, the scalding water splashing on his hands and jacket sleeve. He grimaced in pain, swept the expression from his face and fixed his gaze on Berlin. “Captain, I’d like to speak privately with you.”