Snippet #2342190

Silas fell back, startled at her sudden temper. So, my words do have effect. He contained his desire to rub his hands with glee. Rage was a reaction of one kind, something he could work with. Her blushes, if blushes they were, suggested she was not used to this kind of attention. Interesting.

He barely noticed the strange hissing of the reeds as she cut through them, his thoughts occupied with both how to win this fairfaced and capable woman over, and also with idle thoughts about where exactly he could be, or how to get from here to somewhere more comfortable, preferably with this wench in tow.

"Horrid? Dead, eh? Sounds like you've been hanging out with rough rapscallions alright. I assure you, I am nothing of the sort." He lied boldly. "I've seen some strange sights, Mistress Captain. Dead Men aren't the strangest. Though waking up in a verdant field like nowhere in the West Indies i've ever seen.." He paused, a strange note of doubt entering his tone. It was a very odd place to wake up, indeed.

"We're nearly at the rock there. Strange, I thought a place as lively as this would have more birds. Well, present lovely company excepted, of course." He chuckled.