I Do Heartily Repent

[Plink]

Plink jogged a few steps to keep pace with the big sea otter, assessing him surreptitiously. His paws swayed at his sides, thick and scarred as old mallets. He must have fought scores of battles. Plink picked at a crusty spot on the hilt of her new dirk and aimed a hopeful smile at him.

"How'd ye get ta be a pirate, Chak?"

When she'd asked her slew of questions about the captain, Chak had grunted out answers aplenty. Now though, he fixed her with a dark look. Plink swallowed the other questions chasing on the first one's heels.

"That bain't any o' yer business, cully," he said, baring a glimpse of his yellowed fangs.

"M'only curious."

"Arrr - an' yer mouth be workin' harder 'n yer footpaws. Save yer breath."

Plink let out a frustrated sigh and marched, but there were so many uncomfortable things snagging her attention. Her throat was desperately parched and her legs were stiff and weary from swimming all through the night with that hedgehog following her. There were big tender places across her chest and belly from when she'd been blasted off the ship. The sun was in her eyes. The sand grew hot under her footpaws.

And whenever she was quiet, she would spot another corpse on the beach ahead and her belly would ache. Plink refused to doubt that she had seen Scully in that row boat, but her mind kept stuttering across the events of the previous night, images of beasts stabbed and sliced and smashed into unnatural shapes.

The rat clenched her teeth. They meant nothing to her, those beasts. Beasts died every day, and a pirate had to have the grit it took to speed them along. It was just her worry for Scully that made her stomach roil as if she'd eaten rancid meat. That was all.

Plink fidgeted. She stole a glance back at the hedgehog, Robert. He had taken up a broken oar and was swinging it like a walking stick as he followed after them, though he didn't seem to be limping or anything. Robert noticed her stare and his snout tugged up with that same pleasant smile. Plink snapped back around to face forward.

A moment later, she turned again to look at the slaves. She'd never seen slaves before. She hadn't really given their existence much thought. The sight of them now - the depth of their scars, the bends in their backs, their patchy and lusterless fur - was unsettling. But pirates weren't unsettled by such things.

Plink opened her mouth to ask Chak where the other slaves were, but didn't get the chance. The mouse, Minstrel, began humming along with the beat of their steps, then launched into a cheery song.

"March march march
or else the sun'll cook ya dry!
The beach beach beach
is but a pan on which to fry
when the sun sun sun
is just a de-vil's eye,
ya'll either march march march
or you'll bake up like a pie!"

Minstrel shot Plink a grin, pumping his elbows as he followed his own advice, and the young rat couldn't help but smile back. There was something infectious in his rhythm and it was easy to sing along in the parts that repeated - so she did. The song went on for a few verses and then the mouse paused and glanced at Chak before switching to a new tune.

"Oh! Once we were ten brothers,
ten brothers strong as oak!
We scrapped and laughed together,
each one a handsome bloke!

But ten's too many brothers - me ma can tell ya that!
So she sent me oldest brother off t'be eaten by a cat!

Now Ma, she felt just awful,
she'd lost her eldest son!
But nine's a lot of mouthfuls,
when all ya got is one.

She did all she could think to do but there was nothing fer it -
nine's too many brothers too, so th' next went to a ferret!"

Plink chortled along through the next verse, bolstered by Chak's rumbling laugh. She picked up a more spirited pace, humming along.

"Now Ma, she was a pious beast,
she prayed most every day-
seven sons need quite a feast
to keep the pangs at bay.

She begged the spirits for some food - ole Vulpuz answered back,
he said, 'Tidy up your eldest lad, I'll trade 'im for a snack!'"

Delighted as she was with the song, the mention of food made Plink realize just how hungry she'd become. She gnawed her lip through a few verses and sucked on a button from her pocket, but it made no difference. Finally, she peered up at Chak. "Matey, when d'ya think we might look fer somethin' ta eat?"

The upward turn of his mouth hardened. "If ye be wantin' vic-tu-als, ye'd best go forage fer yerself."

Plink peered up the beach at the shadowy forest. "Ain't ye hungry, too?"

"We bain't wastin' the cool o' the day muckin' around."

"It ain't so cool, now? Can't we just-?"

All in one motion, Chak stopped walking, turned a hard eye upon her, and struck her with an easy backhand. It hit square in the little rat's snout and she sat down hard on the sand.

"I told ye," Chak said, and Plink didn't dare look away from his stern eyes, "to save yer breath."

Robert was shouting something as he ran toward them, but it seemed very far away from where Plink sat. She gave a jerky nod and watched Chak turn and carry on as if nothing had happened. His slaves followed, the squirrel glaring daggers at his back while Minstrel glanced down at Plink almost apologetically.

They were of a height, she and the mouse, but he seemed so much bigger, and older, from down on the ground. After a few steps, he faced forward and resumed his song:

"...She tucked us in a pie crust, and kissed us on our heads
and would've thrown us in the oven if I hadn't up and said..."

Plink watched them walk away, then swiped the reflexive tears from her cheeks as the hedgehog arrived and crouched beside her.

"You alright there, Miss Plink?"

She scrambled to her footpaws, looking anywhere but at the other beast. "I'm fine. He just got the jump on me."

Robert rose slowly, his mouth clamped tight. He gestured pointedly at his own snout.

Plink dabbed her muzzle and found a little blood had leaked out. She dug a stained handkerchief from her jacket pocket.

"Don't you pay that villain no mind," Robert said. His eyes were locked on Chak's diminishing back. "Grown beast strikin' a child. Despicable."

Plink pressed the cloth to her snout and watched the hedgehog watch the otter. "I ain't a child," she snapped, but the viciousness she had aimed for was diminished by her obstructed nostrils. She jammed the handkerchief back in her pocket and snarled. "I ain't a child! I'm a pirate."

The fat old hedgehog looked at her then, but not the way he would look at a pirate. "S'at so? My mistake, Miss Plink."

"Aye! It is your mistake!" The young rat scowled at him as nastily as she could, then scurried after Chak and his slaves. She slowed a ways behind them, just near enough to hear Minstrel singing about a "lovely little mousey girl," and figured that was close enough to prove her point.