Birdie sat crouched by the rail of the rolling vessel, feeling both unimportant and unsafe. "Half a wet mile from here to shore," muttered Birdie. " I wish I could slip over the rail and swim back to the party unnoticed. What did I come for? I am not wanted."
Birdie looked around the deck, which was crawling with elves, half-elves, and seemingly, half elves/half hobbit combos as well. She even thought she spied Rosseil and Celeae lurking amidst the cargo, but couldn't be sure. All going to the West, apparently. She had hoped for a minute that they were talking about West L.A., but alas, it was not to be.
Pio had just collapsed at the feet of Legolas, but that was hardly worth a mention any more. The Silven elf seemed to have that effect on some people. Birdie idly scratched at the small, diamond shaped scar on her breast bone, the only indication left that she had been shot and well-nigh killed before the journey barely started. She wondered just where she would fit in this little adventure, since as far as she knew, she was neither half-Elven, or quarter, or one eighth Elven. She had been found in the forest and raised by some kindly Beornings, and had even developed some of their shape-shifting abilities, but she had never got down bear. Couldn't morph into a bear if her life depended on it.
Her stomach lurched sickenly as the ship pitched with a swell. Sea journeys did not seem to be agree with her. She also found that her shape-shifting was a no-go once the ship had left the dock. Did this mean that she was a witch? She'd read somewhere that witches couldn't cross water.
Birdie's thoughts got bleaker and bleaker as the ship rolled on and on, up and down...up and down...and UP...and DOWN...UP...DOWN...UP...DOWN...
Sudden her stomach gave a jump and a twist, and Birdie was at the rail. She hoped that no one was down wind at the moment, then forgot everything else as she heaved up two days worth of ale and mushroom pie.
After a minute or so, Birdie lay across the rail, barely able to move. she looked down at the white tipped waves racing from the bow, carrying her farther and farther from her cozy little barrow.
That is when she saw the green toned face looking up at her. At first, she thought it was her own reflection, but then realized that the choppy waves would cast no reflection. Besides, this particular face had a small, kelp-brown goatee on it's chin.
"Oh, nice. Lovely. Are you coming down here to clean that up, land-lover?" The emerald green nose wrinkled in disgust, and with a flip of a silver tail, the creature was gone.
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