Chapter 82: Ship Be Sturdy
Gunnar emerged on deck wearing his cutlass and not much else.
Night had fallen, and there was still not a cloud in the sky. He was barefooted and bare-chested, wearing only a pair of trousers and his sheath. Bumped, pinkish scars lined his chest, leaving tracks of bare skin where the hair no longer grew. Day-old stubble coated his face, and the twin braids of his mustache hung low. The locks of his long, black hair rested on his back.
Only a few of the Gryphon II's sailors were on deck. He paid no mind to their stares as he crossed the deck barely clothed. On any other night, he might have made some sort of sarcastic comment. But tonight, he didn't feel like joking around. He didn't feel like saying much of anything. So he just raised the bottle to his lips for a swig. It burned on the way down.
Times like these, I do miss the Brig, he thought.
The Lonn people may have smelled like fish, but, nice thing about owning a bar, you never lacked a drinking buddy.