Below deck, shadows primarily reigned. Between the golden rays of dim sunlight sneaking between the cracks, the musty smell of untouched supply boxes was quite potent. The green eyed teen pushed open a small door, which led to a tiny room. A potty bucket, tiny desk, and plank board bed was within the miniscule, cramped space. Felicity took a moment to shove the revolting smelling bucket beneath the bed before shutting the door behind her with a creak.

She heard every small moan of the boat from within here. There was little noise insulation, although that was expected. This was far from a first class cruise. The girl carefully put the bow on the bed, which had three quilts and a single, stained pillow on it. She had no place to put her larger possessions. Most of it was stored amongst the countless boxes in the back. However, Felicity had a rule of keeping two things with her at all times.

Her weapons. Her alchemy kit.

On the puny stand, attached to the wall, her bag was all tied up. Various small tools and trinkets needed for the art of botany was stored in the animal skin bag. She opened it was caution, in case the ship suddenly made a sharp dip or turn, and pulled out a single object.

A knife.

It was usually made for cutting up herbs or slicing berries. Today, however, it would cut away at long dead flesh. The girl placed her left hand atop the rough oak table. She shook, barely holding onto the knife with her dominant right hand. She was unafraid of pain; she had dealt with aches millions of times worse. It was the possibility of accidentally letting blood at the border of the dead and living tissue. No, the mangled pinky had zero blood flow. Yet, in attempts at careful perfection, even the nimble dexterity of an alchemist’s hands could make a mistake.

She had to take a moment.

She half put the knife down, half tossed it atop the desktop. She took the half step back to the door, head leaning against the crude door. Could she do this? Who knew how long she just stood there, heart pounding, watching the lonely knife. She closed her eyes, remembering the reckless damage she could cause when her Berserk Rage switched on.

She bit her lip in growing worry.