"Oh fu...."

And all she had wanted was a holiday.

She stood at the veranda of a private beach house, the sun baring down upon her fair skin. Lord Cunningham was the name of the master of the vast estate she had rented the lodge from, who had land aplenty and small holdings like this one. It was a perfect place for one such as herself to escape to; to forget the worries of life and work.

That being, it would have been very good, and worthwhile, for the week she had planned of just her and her fox-form familiar, were it not for the sails appearing on the horizon.

And then the sound of guns. Aiming right at the mansion nestled on the shore.

"Damn."

Philomel ducked down, her eyes going dark as she lowered herself below the railings of the veranda, which was barely a cover at all. The ship itself looked like one of an older design than her own, with all white sails and dark wood, though from this distance she could not be sure. Pirates were likely, and these days it was possible because her connections to the pirating community, despite the fact she technically still rented a ship from the Pirate King Malachi, were frail. Instead she was a matriarch and a warrior queen, and that suited her.

But it was not good that there was an attack. Now. Whilst she was on holiday. How very rude.

Another boom and she saw an explosion rattling the side of the mansion. Two figures were hiding, likely Lord Cunningham himself and a friend, hunkering down at the balcony of the huge house a mile from hers. They seemed male, which made sense, and were perhaps fearful. What was good was that the ship seemed to be aiming at them, not her - and that was good.

For now.

But now she had to make a decision. To stay where she was or run and aid those in peril.

What was certain was that her holiday - it was ruined.