"Oh, I see," Arken replies, looking at a boat at the docks. He turns his head back to Spitfire as he adds, "Your ship is beautiful! Where did ye get it?"
"That's what I'd like to know," the other man standing there mutters to himself. "Probably stole it more than likely..."
"What do you know about stolen ships, mate?" Arken asks with a glare.
Compass steps in between Arken and the other man. "No need to fight, guys."
The next thing Spitfire knows, all three men are staring directly at her again.
"Oh..." Spitfire giggles nervously. "I di'n't steal mah ship. Aye, she's a beauty, but all good ones are earned." Her nervous smile morphs into an excited grin as she begins her tale. "She's a Class Four ship, actually. Tha's the silly Aethasian rankin' word fer 'a well-built ship.' She's got 'er downsides, I'll tell ya that, but fer the most part, she sails right and shoots right, so that's all I care about, mates."
Before any of the men could say anything, a man holding a basket and standing right next to Spitfire exclaims, "Hey, guys! I got some Pringles and chicken wangs!"
Chicken wangs? What in the Spiral is--
Spitfire's thoughts were cut off by the other man high on the on the deck of the ship. "Who are you?" he asks.
"I got launched here by a cannon from another ship!" answers the new man. "Call me Exclamation!"
"Wow! You're magic!" replies the other man atop the ship with an awed expression, fixing his eyes on the new man.
"What do you mean I'm magic?" asks Exclamation.
"If you were shot out of a cannon, you would die!" answers the other man.
"Oh, I have never known!" replies Exclamation.
Spitfire just blinks. "Yeah... You'd die, mate. An' I'll take one o' those chicken wangs, if ya don't mind. Sounds right filling, and I'm starving. My crew is too, but they're in the tavern and--" Spitfire, that is enough talking for today, she scolded herself in her mind.