Captain Christian Watson
I watched as John knotted the binds. His curious eyes rising to take in the strangers delicate features. I know I shouldn't let my eyes wander those features to, but there's an inexplicable draw that won't release me. Her ever-shifting eyes and beautiful curled hair reminded me off the sea on a cold, stormy night. This girl was closed.
“Leave” I barked to John and Katrin. Her lips parted, a clear protest ready to spring. But I silenced her with a hard gaze. Looking like a puppy who'd been denied play-time, Katrin walked out alongside John. I knew before I opened my mouth that I wasn't going to get anything from the stowaway.
“Who are you?” I asked. She may be reluctant to explain her reasons for being here, but I doubt she'd be so difficult as to deny me a name. Hesitation crossed her face before her partially open mouth revealed.
“Abigale” She replied, her eyes never fully meeting mine but always looking around them. She just didn't strike me as the type of person to sneak aboard. In fact I'd half expect her to be the kind to demand passage upon a vessel instead. She appeared to have good manners and speak well. She was the kind of person who annoyed Katrin straight away.
“Would it be pointless of me to ask you why you're here a second time?” I checked, collapsing into a chair opposite her with an exhausted sign. She shook her head, sending her chestnut coils flying haphazardly around her shoulders. Another sign escaped my lips and I let my body slump forward. I was still feeling bad from the hangover and now I had this. A stowaway girl of all things.
“Can I ask why this ship?” I continued, I know I should be giving her a more abrupt, hard interrogation but something about her innocence combined with my own general fatigue made me choose this. A casual conversation. Hopefully she'll let slip something important. If not I'll hand her over to Katrin. If anyone will make anyone speak, it's the first mate. She reads people better than any one person I've encountered before.
“Wrong place at the wrong time” she replied, a small laugh being uttered closely after. It wasn't one you made because something as funny though. It was one used to release inner tension. My instincts were rarely wrong and my instincts were screaming that this voyage wasn't going to be as simple as I'd originally thought.