Vhalar 117 Arc 717
Foster's Bay
Foster's Bay
A thud resounded through the seafaring vessel as the hull made contact with the hard stone of the docks. The inside shook upon impact, the shock felt throughout. For many bits, there was the sound of movement outside. The crew was moving, preparing.
“We’ve arrived, lass,” a sailor spoke, sticking his head through the half-open door to her cabin. Yana nodded, having made preparations to go on land for several breaks. All her belongings she’d cared to bring had been neatly folded away and tucked into a rucksack, a couple extra weapons she didn’t feel like carrying on her person were wrapped into sailcloth, and secured to the sack.
She packed light this time. She was, after all, a fugitive of Etzos. Exodus was the first possible thing on her mind if the going went bad.
Yet still she found a purpose great enough to return to the city that had sauntioned her death for simply demanding knowledge.
She clapped the notebook shut and stuffed it into an inner pocket of her coat. Above deck commotion was audible, the crew busy securing the ship and preparing for unloading the cargo. The Yludih rose to her feet, stretching her body for a brief moment before heading to the upper deck.The stink of Fosters entered her nose the moment she stepped into open air, replacing the salty scent of the sea with the smell of sweaty and unwashed Fosters scum. She definitely hadn’t missed this at all, not even for a trill.
With a nod to the captain did Yana descend down the gangplank, spotting a familiar face among the people on the docks. Their gazes met, and Yana could see the spark of recognition in the other’s eyes. She changed course to make her way towards her Etzori contact, pushing through the passing seamen, sailors, and dockworkers.
“Fiona,” she spoke, almost a greeting, but not quite, “you needn’t have bothered to come pick me up.”
