(Ciaran watched carefully as movement along the wharf caught his attention. Aye, he thought to himself, there be the Captain, there be no mistakin' his stature and gait. The Lookout's steele-blue eyes narrowed like a cat's in the night as he peered at the shadowed figures followin' William. Eyes ne'er blinking, Ciaran silently and swiftly moved the rifle into an attentive position, in case it be needed.
He then made one tap, ever so lightly, with his boot against the mast. It was a sound that no one could hear, save fer the two men he meant it for: Mister Lasseter and Mister PEW.
Both men immediately looked up at Ciaran, who never allowed his gaze to leave the approaching figures. The Quartermaster and Master-at-Arms quickly followed his gaze toward the wharf.)