Rohaan's vision seemed to blur with rage as he paced Berlin's quarters. Or was that tears...? He wiped his eyes and pushed over a wooden chair with a violent shove and a primal howl that did not sound wholly human. If a beast could cry with the voice of a human and yet in the language of its animal soul, it might sound something like what came from his lips. He was just so ANGRY. Berlin knew. He [I]knew[/I] what happened to him and who'd done it, and there Berlin had just struck a deal with them. THEM. The ocean was silver that day his whole life was destroyed, stained by the blood of his elders and those he had loved and who had loved him. But Berlin loved him, didn't he? It's not like either of them had said it out loud but...well, he did. He would not have allowed the use of Rheoaan otherwise. It had been offered to him because Rohaan loved him like a father. And he knew by now that Berlin loved him like a son.

But then why would he do this? THIS. This of all things!? If this ship was not his home he would burn it down. Burn. Burn. BURN. He should have lit the whole world on fire that day. He should have lit the ship that bore him away into raging flames. It would have killed most of the other kids, but it would have been a mercy compared to what he knew they all suffered in the end. He should have torched the port shopkeeper who beat him when he was starving, the one who broke his rib that never set right. If he had the strength to shift then, he might have. He should have burned the whole port down. If only he could have.

But then...he never would have failed in picking Pieter's pocket, and Berlin would never have found him. AND BERLIN WOULD NEVER HAVE BETRAYED HIM LIKE THIS HOW DARE HE HOW COULD HE. He clawed at the linens on the bed and flung them to the ground with all the force his wiry arms could muster. It was so hard not to really wreck everything. He wanted to unleash the part of him that was cyradan, to smash the windows and claw at the walls and bite through the floorboards and let it BURN but this was his home, this was Berlin's, he couldn't just...destroy it. So he resorted to throwing linens. 

Rohaan closed his eyes, arms wrapped around his middle like it ached him. And like a sudden fog he was surrounded by his mother's cool and desperate touch and the heat of flaming palm trees and grass huts, the crack of rifles and the fading cries of his elders--some human, some animal. A gripping panic, a disorienting throbbing pain in his head, the smell of blood and shit and the dark laughter of men mingling in a discordant melody with the low, fearful sobs of children he played in the waves with. Kaga-met holding a lantern in one hand and a barely conscious girl in the other. No...not Kaga-met...he wasn't there, it didn't happen like that...did it? No, no, it didn't. That was a woman who did that. But in his mind's eye was Kaga-met all the same. The woman hoists the limp girl up by one wrist. Kaga-met drags the girl across the ocean-damp floor. The woman ascends the stairs as the girl's heels catch and drag on each step. Bump. Bump. The girl's name is Kheyala Khali Kei Rai'asha. She used to pick on Rohaan all the time. Kaga-met finishes his ascent up the steps, passes through the door, and takes Khali with him.

[I]NO![/I]

It was supposed to come out as a word, but instead his body morphed and he became a cyradan and roared. 

----

The ship lurched suddenly starboard like a great weight had been dropped onto the deck as the dragon roar pierced through the wooden walls of Berlin's cabin. Berlin and Uban both spilled their wine a little, but the practiced seamen found their balance quickly. Berlin stood with his feet spread wide for stability as the ship bobbed and rocked, still listing a little to one side even as it steadied. He had one hand upraised but was otherwise perfectly still. He did not look particularly surprised, though his gaze was intent on his cabin. "As long as that door doesn't open, I'm gonna let him be. He's got to work this out." And, knowingly, he warned, "Brace yourselves. There's going to be less weight on this ship in a moment, I know it." Sure enough, a moment later, the ship bobbed up, rocking suddenly to the port side and then freely swinging into an equilibrium after that. The door did not open. Berlin breathed a sigh of relief. He could contain the shifter if he had to, but Rohaan needed to figure this out on his own. The cabin quieted altogether after that, and the captain relaxed. Aboard this ship, such things were not strange.

Berlin eyed Kaga-Met ruefully. "Really sorry about that. I'm...a little embarrassed I couldn't host you in better circumstances but..." he sighed. "Wild things will always remain somewhat wild. You understand now, I think, what this pursuit means to us." He offered a small smile. "But please, have more wine! There's plenty. Ah, you know--" He turned to Uban. "Uban lad, fetch your lute, why don't you?" 
Uban beamed. "Aye sir, I think I will!" He disappeared below deck and came back with a very well-used lute, which he briefly tuned before gently plucking a quiet, ambient tune. He looked at Millie, and tried to glean what he could about her from one glance. He wasn't really sure what to make of her, except that she seemed stoic enough to be one of Wheel's friends, so at least that checked out. "Got any requests?" he asked her. Uban could have a social life in a graveyard. 

Berlin made his way over to Wheel, sipping his cup of wine. "Old friend of yours, I see?" he said in a private volume. "Who is she?" He was as much curious for his understanding of Wheel as he was for his understanding of these new allies. "She as much of a juggernaut in a fight as you?"