Post by Annasiel on Feb 24, 2023 16:31:02 GMT
It was different, but in much the way, it was the same. Small villages and seaside cities traded for cramped and musty rooms, sicknesses and working accidents replaced by bullet wounds and stabs. But it was still people that needed her, still people she could help, people that were hurting inside, in more ways than one, that could flourish under a gentle hand. Their stories were not yet done.
The biggest difference, of course, was a good one. Knowing she would wake up to the same faces - well, it was a feeling she hadn't known in years. It was terrifying, almost, to consider. The first few nights, she considered leaving, if only by instinct of wanderlust alone. She wasn't meant to stay in a place. Homes were not things for her. Her life was roads and strangers, her stories wide, but never deep.
But - the longer she stayed, the more comforting it felt. She began to learn them. Names, dreams, fears. Pirates or not, they were people just as much as any other, and now, they could be her people too. Taking a bowl of soup and a mug of watered ale - she'd have to inquire about her kettle to the good captain later, she thought, and where best to heat it - she moved into the bustling mess hall, eyes shifting across the people gathered. She might head back to the clinic, normally - the loudness of the hall was a bit too much. It was a good place for talking, but she preferred to talk in places she could hear herself think. One lonely eater, however, caught her attention. Slowly, she made her way over to him, settling beside him and blowing gently on her stew.
He'd been one of the ones she'd treated the night she came. An eye so mangled it had to be removed. She hadn't seen him around since then; no doubt recovering from his injuries.
"Hello. It was... Caleb, yes?"
The biggest difference, of course, was a good one. Knowing she would wake up to the same faces - well, it was a feeling she hadn't known in years. It was terrifying, almost, to consider. The first few nights, she considered leaving, if only by instinct of wanderlust alone. She wasn't meant to stay in a place. Homes were not things for her. Her life was roads and strangers, her stories wide, but never deep.
But - the longer she stayed, the more comforting it felt. She began to learn them. Names, dreams, fears. Pirates or not, they were people just as much as any other, and now, they could be her people too. Taking a bowl of soup and a mug of watered ale - she'd have to inquire about her kettle to the good captain later, she thought, and where best to heat it - she moved into the bustling mess hall, eyes shifting across the people gathered. She might head back to the clinic, normally - the loudness of the hall was a bit too much. It was a good place for talking, but she preferred to talk in places she could hear herself think. One lonely eater, however, caught her attention. Slowly, she made her way over to him, settling beside him and blowing gently on her stew.
He'd been one of the ones she'd treated the night she came. An eye so mangled it had to be removed. She hadn't seen him around since then; no doubt recovering from his injuries.
"Hello. It was... Caleb, yes?"
