As Captain Darion and Jake walked through the deck, they eyed an unseemly sight at sea. They both stood bewildered at starboard when Jake broke the spell:
— Mad cicadas drowning in saltwater. Aye, the sea is a corrupted wench for a braying bug, ain't she, me Darion lad? Still an ominous sight, no less. Ye can hear the beasties yowl, too. Stray critters lost in the sweeping edge of the ocean, carried away by the gale, reckons I. 'Tis the one place where their harrowing bellows come for naught. Howbeit, methinks of the beastie's sheer grit, upheaved by squall, carried into the claws of tide, stifling away with haste, yet still clutching for the sojourn of here and now while weathering in this raging war 'twixt Aeolus and Neptune.
Darion leaned over the rail, taken aback, yet enthused by the freedom of his subordinate's woolgathering.
— Aye, yer spitting words of wit, brother. Ye speak as a skipper, not as mere helmsman. Inchmeal, I bicker and quarrel with Neptune meself in vexation of the waves 'til me spleen bursts open into flames and plunges itself in burning rage into the sea. A wild sight to behold now, eh, brother? I swear the vision fits the gall. Reckon we shall truss our tripes 'round the brine's neck if it truly comes to that, eh? A lasting sway of the haddock's sharp iron fin fluttering about on its death dance, slitting all it brushes. That'd calm her tempest, aye.
Jake remained stern and his response was immediate and spirited:
— There's no appeasing the white horses, lad. No proffer of goodwill for the fury of the combers. Ye fall, ye quiver, ye croak, still she thirsts for more. Can be there's a lull, a skimpy jiff of concord, a quickie as they call it. A mere ruse to cozen yer surmises, laddie. For that, spits I - do not swallow the salty foam, brother! Ye shall know that very well, my dearly captain. Come peace, ye do not appease, ye strike with mighty strength, for that is the fleeting breadth of mercy she'll give yer guts afore she guts 'em again. Revel in the juncture of the crow's nest, lad, make merry of the capstone, while you can, or be harrowed in the billows that bedevil this mortal coil, but ye never forget that the breaker always has the parting shot and ye always come a cropper, no matter yer cannonade. 'Tis the wage for the romp. Behooves frolicking through ebb and flow like the mad cicadas of herenow. Hear their rouse, brother!
As Jake ascended with his own fervor, Darion slowly walked over to the ship's wheel.
— 'Tis but a vex. An omen, as ye said yerself. Go to the halyards, laddie, ease up the helm for yer captain. I relish yer reverie, but a beastie may well have landed in yer already piss grog and fouled it for good.
