James shielded his eyes as he stood with one foot on the figurehead of the longboat. Above on the mast, a lookout called out excitedly “Land ho, two points off the starboard bow!” A flurry of excitement swept through the crew and passengers of the crowded ship, but James only smiled to himself a little. It looks like his eyes weren’t wrong, there was something out there after all.
“Flagship’s turning for land!” the lookout called, as James made his way back towards the hatch that led to the small storage hold under the deck. He passed two of the passengers chatting. “I’ll be glad to be done eating hardtack, dried meat, travel bread and fish.” One of them commented.
“Just be glad the food stayed so good.” A sailor manning the oar near them commented, breath puffing in controlled rhythm. “And that the water stretched so long. I swear, I’ve made plenty of voyages where the food spoiled and we were on short rations long before now.”
His face carefully blank, James slipped past them and slid down the hatch into the cramped storage space. He checked his gear where it was hidden in a corner of the hold, and then checked some of the water barrels, murmuring to himself as he did. They’d stretch a while past landfall, at least.
Leaving, he slid the hatch closed and nodded politely to the ratkin family that normally slept across from him towards the rear of the ship. It never hurt to be polite, and much like him, they were fastidiously clean, a welcome reprieve from the sailors that weren’t.
Adjusting the scarf across his forehead to hold back his hair, he found himself watching the land they were approaching once again. Nearby was one of the other refugees, cloak wrapped around him as it always was.
Normally, James kept to himself, but something made him keep trying to engage this one in conversation. “Hmph. It’s got to be better then what I left behind. What about you, looking forward to dry land?” he asked dryly.