The boat rocked back and forth as they set sail. MottlePaw watched as the landmass slowly shrunk and vanished. She learnt that the calico tom's name was Patchy, and his sister was the molly he was with. His sister was apparently very ill, and normally would be home.

It was a quiet ride, not much going on. MottlePaw felt it would be like this throughout the entire day. She stepped away from the bow and headed into the mate's cabin. She looked at the bedding. She remembered when she used to hide under the bedding and anywhere where she was able.

She sat down and opened a book. She started to document the day, walking out of the cabin and checking everything, writing what she found, reporting things, then sitting back and looking out at the oceans. Most of the others were leaving MottlePaw alone, but Ghostly often tried to talk to her.

Today though, MottlePaw knew no one would. They were busy, and no one had the time to talk to one another. 

MottlePaw heard crates scrape against the insides of the boat as a large wave smacked the side of the ship.

She looked down into the water as fish swam by and as whales wailed. It was certainly a good day to just watch everything go by. Not an adventurous day, but just a calm and relaxed one.

MottlePaw felt a presence join her. "Good day, MottlePaw." Gold greeted. MottlePaw smiled at Patchy's sister. She noticed the tom being slowly more distant with her. "Good day, Gold. Is all's alright?" MottlePaw asked. Gold shook her head.

"Patchy hath been mumbling things 'i his sleep recently. Something he quoth bothered me." Gold responded. MottlePaw cocked her head, curiously.

"He quoth...  'Mother, father hate mine sister. I do lack Sunny to be alright, I do lack her to be fine, I do not crave 'em to fuss over me. Pneumonia is nought compared to the neglect they hath shown her.' The thing is that mother loves us, and our father left when we were young, and we lack a sister named Sunny, nor hath he aye bid me Sunny. We do not e'en wot a Sunny aside from Sunray!" Gold sighed. "Plus, he's ne'r been ill ere, not with aught like that! Patchy may hast been bed-ridden when he was younger due to back pains, yet that was the worst that hath aye befell to him!" Gold added.

MottlePaw nodded, listening as Gold left. It seemed as though all she needed was to vent. MottlePaw closed her eyes. What was wrong with Patchy? Was it just a bad dream, or was it something else? 

She shook her head as she left the railing and headed into the mate's cabin, writing down what she was told and hiding her journal. MottlePaw then left the cabin to help out in the ways she could. It might not have been much, but it was more than what she would do otherwise. If she wanted to call herself a pirate, she needed to work for it!