The crewman's head snapped violently to his right, spraying the inner hull with red and bits of teeth. The meaty fist that had done the damage continued its wide arc, connecting with yet another head foolish enough to be in the way. This time the force centered upon the victim's temple, instantly glazing the otter's eyes and sending him to the floor and into unconsciousness. The owner of the fist stepped back from the two prone forms at his feet, while around him the rest of the crew filled the space of the ship's hold with the howls and roars of dissatisfaction.

"How dare he?!", came the yells. "To think he's fit to be among us!"

Their anger centered upon the one still standing, his towering frame several heads above the ones around him. The long dark fur the covered the thickly corded muscles of his arms wavered slightly in the heated, musk scented air. Steaming breath bellowed from his barreled chest, to vent though the end of a short broad muzzle. The thin lips at its edges peeled back in a snarl, the light of the several flaming lanterns glinted off the curved pointed teeth that were exposed. Eyes the color of molten gold shined from beneath the tangled ropes of long dark hair that hung before his face, a face the color of damp earth, outlined in lighter tan. Curling around his eye, within the band of lighter fur, a white colored mark began right above his left eye and curved around, smaller claw shaped marks protruding from the outer edge before the marking ended at the jaw. The movement of his bare feet, as he turned to face those around him, cause the worn edges of the simple hide trousers he wore to flutter. It was his only clothing, save for the leather string of carved wooden beads that hung tightly around his neck, Otherwise, from the waist up, all was deep brown-black fur, with long strips of tan running from the pit of his arms down his sides. The typical coloring for a wolverine like him.

His thick muscles corded, short bushy tail bristled. They started for him then, a wave of angry faces with eyes filled with venom. His fisted tightened.....ready.

"STOP THIS!!!"

Heads turned to the steps leading into the hold. Holding a lantern, the captain glared at the gaggle before him. The scowl on his bill was enough to quiet them all. Despite it being the middle of the night, the old duck still wore his full uniform. Silks of blue and red, trimmed in sparkling gold, shined in the fire light. Medals clacked together upon his chest. As he strode into the hold, the crewman parted. He was short, barely reaching chest height of most of the men, but, as he looked at each with his one good eye, they showed tremendous respect by cowing. Yes, he only had one eye. Where the right one would have set, a rolled scarf of scarlet hue ran around his head at an angle. Featherless scars spidered from under the silk, hinting at an old grievous injury.

"Everyone back to your bunks!", he ordered, "NOW!!! Or I'll hang you from the mast myself!!!"

Faces scattered in all directions. "You two." called the captain, two beavers turned toward him, standing straighter. "Pick up your fellow crewmen." he motioned to the ones still attempting to lift themselves from the floor, blood still trickling from ones jaw, the other sporting a large blue-black lump at his temple. "Wake the doctor and get them treated."

"Yes, sir." both beavers called, before shouldering the two injured men, and helping them up the steps.

Now, the captains eyes turned to where the wolverine still stood, his body relaxed, even as the captain wobbled up to him. Having to crane his neck up to look at him, the old captain's face lost some of it's ferocity.

"I'm sorry, son." he sighed. "I'm afraid my crew are not as open minded as I."

The wolverine looked down at the duck. "It's alright, sir." he said in a deep yet smooth voice. "It's not the first time." Those gold eyes glancing sideways as memories flashed, memories filled with pain. He had faced such prejudice against his people before. At the same time, the captain took note of all the scars that marked the younger crewman's body.

After a moment of silence, the captain spoke. "We should make berth in three days. At that time you, may if you wish, take as much from the stores as your belly can carry. Also, you've done an excellent job these last few months, and you've earned a well deserved pay when we reach port. More then enough to give you a good head start on your journey. Ah, speaking of which." Reaching into his pocket, the duck pulled out a small piece of parchment. Handing it over, he added, "The name of a town. From what you've told me, i think it would be the most likely place. And even if it isn't, it would be the best place to start looking."

"Thank you, sir." the wolverine spoke, taking the bit of paper from the captain. Unfolding it, he read the name of the town. 'BonBon'. Looking back to the captain, "And the item I..."

"Safe," the captain cut in, grinning reassuringly, "In my quarters under lock and key."

Nodding, the larger male turned to make for the stairs leading out of the hold.

Watching for a moment, the captain asked, "She must mean a lot to you." The wolverine stopped. "To come all this way, from the New World to the Old."

There was silence, broken only by the soft gurgling of the water lapping at the ship outside.

"Yes." the younger one spoke, "She's all the family I have left." And with that, he moved up the steps, leaving the captain alone in the hold.

Until, finally, the captain also hobbled up those same stairs towards his personal quarters, eager to know the comfort of his bed.