Shedding water from his dark brown pelt with a head to toe shimmy, Benbe slid his arms into a green, sleeveless jacket, and hopped up onto the forecastle of Windskipper. She was a fine ship, fast and soundly built, though his ladylove Pearl insisted she was more raft than galliot. “Don’t ye worry darlin’, she loves you, same as me,” he said, stroking a sun-darkened railing with his paw.
Pearl grinned impishly, keeping her eyes on the water over the bow. They sailed neutral waters, but one touch of Windskipper’s keel to the black sand below and all was forfeit.