Philomel stood at the helm of the Monique, wind blowing wild in her hair. Beside her stood the gentlemanly form of Captain Cain. Using her art of subtulty the faun assessed the man with several aside glances, at the same time as her awareness moved through the ship.

The Monique positively thrummed with hard working life. Energy, made in the feet of the crew as they moved to go about their daily duties, was strict to a personal level, each one exerting himself with the most normal amount of effort it seemed, as she felt their feet stride over the wooden panels that made up the vessel. Philomel felt a great enthusiasm in them, for none faltered at taking on the rhythm of the work here, none made mistakes aside from the purely human errors. Overall she felt a good few dozen rooms with dust and small rats living in the true bottom. There was also around a crew of fifty people, all mighty it seemed and not likely to put up a weak fight.

Cain was of similar build. His broad back spoke of years of experience, arms of strength. His whole stature spoke command and she could only imagine what an inspiration to these men he was, due to their willingness to keep working. He seemed the sort to respect honour, and though she was sure he now at least suspected part of the Feisty Fox's true identity, he did nothing about it. Perhaps he was planning on acting on it later, when her back was turned - but Philomel had already spoken to Maverik about this. As Philomel leant over the balcony of the ship she let herself be entirely at the captain's possible mercy, and an eagle-eyed Mav watched from the edge.

Before them was a true tall cliff, closer now as the three ships closed in. It was not clear if there was a beach to successfully land in, but at least there was the clear sign of their destiny. White cliffs, with the scar of a dark, foreboding building atop - the castle spoken about in legends.

"There," Philomel straightened and held up a hand, pointing at the castle. "Looks ruinous but there," a great smile slid across her face. "It exists, captain Cain."

Between them a russet shape jumped, right up onto the balastrade. Great golden eyes belonging to the earth-spirit gazed out over the sea for a long second - and the faun and the human remained quiet, respectful.

Eventually Veridian turned to her and nodded. The one, he said to her. I am sure.

"Lovely," Philomel went on. "Now all we need is to find somewhere to land."