piraticalwit
Days had blurred together, one into the next, stretching as far back in his memory as he could recall in an endless cycle of sunrise to sunset that could drive a man mad if he let himself think about it. Fortunately, days were filled with activity – forced routine though it may be, it kept the mind focused and the lunacy at bay, and Starkey clung to those routines like a lifeline, going through the motions with a grim determination that had thus far managed to stave off the encroaching madness.
At night, though, it was too easy to lose oneself in the dark, the confines of the ship closing in around him like a suffocating blanket, and Starkey had found himself lingering up on deck until the wee hours of the night as of late in an effort to avoid the stifling feeling.
Tonight was no different, the unnatural stillness of the air leaving him uncomfortable and irritated. The first mate paced the deck, hands folded behind his back as he stalked along the rail, his gaze settling on the familiar silhouette of the Captain where he stood at the helm. Approaching cautiously, ever wary of the other man’s current temperament, Starkey came to stand beside his captain, his face an unreadable mask as he addressed Hook.
“Can’t sleep, Captain?”
