The sky was clear, the sea blue, and their path set. Honestly, this was one of his favorite places to be in one of his favorite circumstances: On his ship, without any imminent threats. Of course, there was always the chance of things going south real quick - the sea could turn on you in an instant, a monster below could decide you were too close, an enemy ship could decide today was their day.
But those were only problems to be addressed when they needed to be. Preemptive worrying about those things only served to stress, and Shanks was allowed one of the greatest blessings on the seas: A full crew of capable people who also wanted to not die suddenly at sea. Friends he trusted to do their jobs. And even better, this time around they had picked up another pair of talented, skilled hands for their travels. Sure, it was for a temporary amount of time - just until they could get her to where she needed to be - but it was always nice to have Lyra around. Even if Benn was a little less warm and welcoming to the idea. But as long as she pulled her own weight on the ship, there wasn’t much Benn could complain about: there were few secrets with how the crew was run. Few things the Marines could truly use against them. For how strong they had gotten, their ‘secret’ was very simple: they were just pirates who liked to have a good time.
While he was excited to be able to spend this time with Lyra, though, there was another thing on his mind. He was fighting through it more so while she was around, he knew Beckman could tell he was pushing himself but it couldn’t be that obvious (could it?). He was taking a break from his retraining with Mihawk, leaving his swordsmanship for the moment in favor of getting back in practice with sailing and other tasks on board a ship. His left arm, his dominant arm, had been gone for a couple months. The wound itself healed, but that had proved the smallest obstacle. He still often forgot that it was gone, it was still uncomfortable to do simple things, writing was discouragingly impossible - he hated it enough when he could use his left hand. Now with his right? Nah. Nope.
He also tired easier these days. Doc said it was to be expected, and that he shouldn’t push himself too hard, but as mentioned before - the sea had many threats. He trusted his crew but they also relied on him. Their Captain.
Not only did they rely on him for safety, but also he was the ‘fun’ guy. So that’s what he needed to provide. He had grabbed two beers and made his way to their temporary crewmate, grinning as he saw her, “There’s the new pirate! How’re you enjoying the view? She’s a good ship, ain’t she? We got some wardrobe choices for ya if you wanna embrace the life, dahahaha,” he held out a drink for her, realizing as he stared at his own that opening it might be a little trickier now that he thought about it. But he’d figure that out later, trying to avoid bringing that sort of awkwardness into this interaction.
