The smoke from Osprey’s cigarette wound upward toward the shattered planet in the sky. It was early morning, and she was finishing a long watch shift. She rubbed her bleary eyes. As nice as the tea Lark had brought her had been, what she really needed was a cup kafa. Since taking up the Master-at-Arms role, Osprey had found herself more on edge than she had been in ages, since she had been deployed with Kestrel to Zangarra. She took another drag; the soft sizzle of burning rolling paper cut through morning quietude. She flicked the glowing stub from her perch high in the crow’s nest, and watched as its cherry spiralled down down down into the glassy sea. No, taking care of others, being the protective detail, as it were, was something she had done in the past and had never really viewed herself doing again. Between the sleepless nights and boring as hell diplomatic conversations to which she had been subjected, Osprey had decided long ago she could only do one of those things well at a time. But who was she to protest orders? A promotion was a promotion. It was necessary. And she had earned it. Petrel’s orders were explicit — protect the assets at all costs. Alright. At least she’d be getting a pay bump. The fact an account had been set up for all her current and back military pay was an encouraging sign. Perhaps her duty was almost up. Osprey cast a long look toward the planet hovering just above Azeroth’s horizon. She wondered what it was like. ‘Argus’ was the name she had heard whispered — was this the old goat’s ancestral home world? If it’s denizens were as pigheaded as Mister Albatross had been, she wanted to remain as far away as possible — fuck that guy, she thought. She closed her eyes, crossed her arms, and leaned against the wall of the crow’s nest. She listened to the roll of the sea and the calls of the seabirds. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the salty, moist air. After a time, she opened her eyes and watched the horizon. Minutes passed. A faint green flash cut across the surface of distant waters. Then the sun began to rise. Osprey smiled. She shut her eyes once more, let the light warm her, and enjoyed feeling of the sea as it rocked her body gently with the current. In that moment, as in every other instance of those moments, she let herself become one with nature. Soon, the sound of shuffling feet from far below began to drift to her. She sighed. And then Wren’s shouted call: “Watch change. Mister Mason, relieve Miss Osprey!” “Shift change, aye!” Osprey called. She pushed herself up once she had heard Andrew’s muffled acknowledgement from belowdecks. She hoisted herself over the wall and began to climb down. An anticlimactic end to another boring shift. At least she had that bedroll she had spread across her bunk waiting for her. A perk, she supposed. (( Mentioned: @juniper-rose-blower @brian-wellson @quai-mason @andrew-mason / [ @blackbay-wra ] ))