Snippet #1290598

Maggie did not flinch from the Captain’s response, had even expected a more heated backlash. She could see the dislike in his eyes, but she hadn’t said what she’d said to be popular. What they needed was a leader, and anger was a much better motivator than the self destructive self pity he had displayed earlier. Maggie highly doubted Captain Morr would speak to her, at least in a kindly tone, again for a long while, but he was up now, commanding and productively leading his men. She had accomplished her goal.

After the captain had seemed to regains control of himself once again, Maggie helped carry their surviving supplies out of the ship, and attempted to stay out of the Captain’s way. She did not wish to start a conflict if it could be avoided, and Maggie was quite certain the man would have nothing kind to say to her at them moment should they be forced to converse. Maggie’s last trip into the ship was to collect her own things. She had packed lightly, but tactfully, suddenly quite glad for the small sewing box she had tucked into her travelling bag. It might prove enormously useful. It would be entirely illogical to try and travel with her entire wardrobe, so she chose a sensible light cotton dress (that seemed to complement this curiously warm weather well) and one of the heavier ones meant to be worn back home just in case. She could always cut it down and use the cloth for something else later. Along with the sewing box, went the one insensible addition to her satchel bag. A small painted portrait of four smiling faces looked back at her as she placed the likeness of her sister and her family into the bag. She didn’t know when she would see them again, was even preparing herself for the reality that it might be never, but she didn’t want to forget their faces.

And with that task finished, Maggie ambled her way back out of the ship, looking for a place to make herself useful.