𝕬𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞 - [𝗞𝗮𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗸𝗸𝗲𝗿]

𝐱𝐥. 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 — just you

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 "𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄." Kaz's voice seemed to ricochet around the room like one of Jesper's sizzling bullets. It was full of cold stone as he peered at each and every one of them. They had to prepare, no doubt they'd be gone for quite some time... and Fjerda was a mystery to a majority of them, "I'll send word to each of you after I find us a ship, but be ready to sail by tomorrow night."

 Aleksa had only guessed they'd be sailing the moment they could; Kaz never gave them longer than necessary to prepare themselves... not that it truly mattered. All Aleksa had to do was pack the few things she needed, strap her quiver to her shoulder, and be on her merry way.

 She was rather excited at the prospect of sailing the sea once more, it had been a taste she'd acquired thanks to a certain loud-mouthed prince. Nikolai, or rather, Sturmhond, had sailed for so many years with his rag-tag crew... and then when the seas couldn't quite carry him where he wanted to go, he had chosen to sail the damned skies.

 Aleksa had found herself on boat after boat when she'd stuck by dear Alina Starkov. Each trip was filled with light and shadows, with Squallors hurtling their ship through the air, while Tidemakers weaved the ocean waves.

 It would be a long journey, with uncertain weather that would likely begin to chill their bones and turn their flesh purple the moment Fjerda drew closer. Aleksa had already felt the cold blanket of the Fjerdan air; it was bitter and curled around the skin like a noose to the neck. It was lethal, if not properly prepared.

 "We don't know what kind of weather we'll hit, and there's a long journey ahead of us." Kaz expanded, leather-clad fingers dipping into the pocket of his coat. Aleksa truly thought they might be bottomless, "Hringkälla is our best shot at Bo Yul-Bayur. We're not going to risk losing it by postponing any longer than needed.

 It gave him just enough time too; his crew would be delegated their roles. From finding suitable clothing to securing the necessary stock for their weapons...

 Not only that... Kaz needed to think the plan through. The basics were easy enough to picture; where they'd enter and where they'd exit... it was the in-between that was worrisome. They wouldn't be able to haul much more than the clothes on their backs with them, for if they were to land themselves behind bars, the Fjerdans would likely take great joy in seizing their weapons.

 Kaz's eyes flicked to Wylan, and Aleksa spied something within them. Kaz assessed anyone and everyone that stood before him. He'd watch how they'd speak, how they'd walk. He'd find weaknesses and discrepancies in their performances.

 But he wasn't doing that this time. Kaz's eyes weren't narrowed with little creases at the edges, coddling those pretty brown eyes like a frame. He almost looked worried, and maybe he was. Wylan was ever so clearly out of his depth, and they hadn't even left Ketterdam, hell, they hadn't stepped foot outside the Crow Club.