Post by Scratchfur on Mar 11, 2009 22:31:07 GMT -5
*Down by the docks, which were almost as silent as the calm ocean, a ship lay moored and still. With all the masts devoid of open sails, it seems like the ship was asleep under the quickly fading stars of the night. To the eastern horizon, the sun was beginning to peek its light over the horizon into the overwhelming dark sky, turning the darkness into a light hugh of orange-red. This was the beginning of the new day, the beginning of the sunrise.
Sunrise--the coldest time of day as some would argue, did not seem to phase the figure that was standing on the docks, back facing the fort and peering towards the open ocean as if waiting for some ghost ship to appear. With each passing second, the figure's very shaded outline became more and more apparent until, as the sun finally appeared over the horizon, the figure could be fully made out. Wearing a dark blue overcoat, a sea rat was the beast who was staring into the great depths of the unknown. In its left paw, the rat held a tricot hat tightly against its side, the feather that protruded from the top slightly waving in the ever so soft breeze that had sprung up from non-existance. Blinking a few times as the sun began to hit its eyes, the rat began to stir from its statue-like stance. Turning around slightly, the rat began to walk towards the moored ship, trying to make as little noise as possible even though the boots it wore made clumping noises every step taken. By the time the rat had reached the ship, the slight breeze had taken shape into a brisk breeze that was flapping around the rat's overcoat and puffed out pantaloons, which gave the rat an almost epic posture as he stopped by the bow of the ship. Giving the ship a slight inspection, the rat couldn't help but notice the name engraved on the side--Sojourner. Muttering this to himself for a few moment, the rat seemed lost as if in a trance until the sound of a wave sloshing below the dock brought him out of this.
There it was. The pride of the Guardian's navy, the Sojourner, waiting to be boarded and taken out to sea for patrols. And here, on the dock, stood the Commodore of the Navy, Scratchfur, admiring the ship that he had been made responsible for. While such a position was something he had always been yearning for, at the same time he was leery of such a tasking. Not having been on a ship for a while, he had forced himself to relearn all of the ways of the sea, to ensure that he did not appear as junior as those who would soon be under his command. His command had such a strange ring, but alas the time for questioning himself was over. With the sun up, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the crew would show up, prepared and ready to set out on whatever mission was required of them to ensure the safety of Mossflower and all its inhabitants.
With this in mind, Scratchfur took the tricot from his side and rammed it onto his head, ensuring that the breeze would not take it as a prize. Looking himself over to ensure that he looked eversomuch the part of Commodore, he waited patiently by the magnificent flagship for her future crew.*
Sunrise--the coldest time of day as some would argue, did not seem to phase the figure that was standing on the docks, back facing the fort and peering towards the open ocean as if waiting for some ghost ship to appear. With each passing second, the figure's very shaded outline became more and more apparent until, as the sun finally appeared over the horizon, the figure could be fully made out. Wearing a dark blue overcoat, a sea rat was the beast who was staring into the great depths of the unknown. In its left paw, the rat held a tricot hat tightly against its side, the feather that protruded from the top slightly waving in the ever so soft breeze that had sprung up from non-existance. Blinking a few times as the sun began to hit its eyes, the rat began to stir from its statue-like stance. Turning around slightly, the rat began to walk towards the moored ship, trying to make as little noise as possible even though the boots it wore made clumping noises every step taken. By the time the rat had reached the ship, the slight breeze had taken shape into a brisk breeze that was flapping around the rat's overcoat and puffed out pantaloons, which gave the rat an almost epic posture as he stopped by the bow of the ship. Giving the ship a slight inspection, the rat couldn't help but notice the name engraved on the side--Sojourner. Muttering this to himself for a few moment, the rat seemed lost as if in a trance until the sound of a wave sloshing below the dock brought him out of this.
There it was. The pride of the Guardian's navy, the Sojourner, waiting to be boarded and taken out to sea for patrols. And here, on the dock, stood the Commodore of the Navy, Scratchfur, admiring the ship that he had been made responsible for. While such a position was something he had always been yearning for, at the same time he was leery of such a tasking. Not having been on a ship for a while, he had forced himself to relearn all of the ways of the sea, to ensure that he did not appear as junior as those who would soon be under his command. His command had such a strange ring, but alas the time for questioning himself was over. With the sun up, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the crew would show up, prepared and ready to set out on whatever mission was required of them to ensure the safety of Mossflower and all its inhabitants.
With this in mind, Scratchfur took the tricot from his side and rammed it onto his head, ensuring that the breeze would not take it as a prize. Looking himself over to ensure that he looked eversomuch the part of Commodore, he waited patiently by the magnificent flagship for her future crew.*