Silkie McDonough

::sigh:: Now I have to start avoiding some of the threads. ::sigh:: Welcome back Jack. ::sigh::

Fáilte, Welcome Smythe. Now since ya don't say so in yer profile I ken nil tell ifin yer a lad er a lass. So, I'll be needin t give ya a rater neutral greetin. She lifts her tankard here's t'd'fun we ken have pillagen! Tilting her head all the way back she quaffs the tankard dry then holds it out for a refill. Rhum pounch ifin ya will!

After the French inspection was done Miss McDonough headed below. She secured a lantern with a full candle and with paper, ink and quill in hand headed to the hold to make the captains requested inventory. The noise of chatter faded behind her. Below deck the quiet filled the space with only the slow creaking of the ship and water splashing in the bilge. Ducking low she quickly made her way to the trunk that contained the sail making supplies. Murin laid the paper, ink and quill on the lid of the next trunk, hung the lantern on the nearest peg and lifted the lid of the trunk she intended to inventory. Carefully she opened the ink and set it beside the paper and dipped the quill. Withdrawing the quill from the ink pot. She then started her list. She scrunched her face as the a drop splattered the corner of the paper. The quill was set to paper and ink flowed far too quickly and another large splotch of ink was formed at the start of the letter, she sighed. Dragging the quill from that spot she formed, in a very shaky and unpracticed hand, the word "Benchhooks". The next line was written without dipping the quill again, "Fids". She continued "Seam Rub..." the quill was void of ink. She returned it to the well, this time remembering to touch the tip lightly to the side before returning it to the paper. To her delight no drop spilled from the quill and only a slight blotch of ink formed where she continued the word "...ber". Thus she continued until the list was completed, each word improving with practice. As she finished the last word and set the quill down to begin the count something aside from the noise of the ship caught her ear. Startled she sat still straining to find it again. Her hand slowly moved to the hilt of her knife and she waited. Again the noise came, a soft thump behind her. She turned quickly drawing the knife. Her heart racing she spied it's source. A short hair tortoise shell cat blinked back at her, it's eyes glowing in the candle light. The two starred at each other for a moment then Murin breathed a sigh. With Megs recent experience fresh in her mind she had feared the worst. She knew Tawny was locked up and that the ship was being inspected for the possibility of any more trouble but her fears were still very real. She slid the knife back into it's sheath as the cat came forward and rubbed against her bare calf. Reaching down she quietly said, "Ya moust b'Pandora." the feline pushed against her leg as she scratched behind its ears, its purr sounded loud in the quiet of the hold. For a moment they sat there enjoying each others company until something caught the attention of the feline. She stood, frozen for a moment her purring stopped. Murin also looked to see the unheard sound that Pandora focused on but saw or heard nothing. In a moment the cat was gone as suddenly as she had appeared and Murin returned to her work. She made a mark for each item she counted. Although she knew how to write her letters she was vague on her numbers. Something she planned soon to remedy. After all, most of the people on this ship could read or write and she was sure someone would be willing to assist her. Pandora, or one of the other ships cats continued to pad around the hold, first here then there. Murin still had an uneasy feeling but kept reminding herself "We have the situation in hand, the crew is about."

Well lad, I've a tradition where I greets the new lad. Silkie sidels up to Rob, her tankard clearly empty. See, you buys mae a rhum pounch n'I gives ya a wee kiss.

hmmmm ...I may need to rent a hall.

Jenny, I am organizing an east coast celebration of Baconfest 07'. (I have Williams permission) You sound like you would enjoy the festivities. You are more than welcome to visit south Jersey come October.

Bimini, I like it. I like the look of the longer phonetic spelling. "Beemeenee". Could we work off of that ...an anglo spelling of a Spanish place? Assuming it is to appear in written form someplace. Either way it gets my vote.

My shepski (Sheapard-Husky mix) would sing with me. He particularly liked Christmas songs specifically, "O'Holy Night"

The lass blushes lightly. I'm sorry t'say I nil know any shanties. I'll sing ya "Jug o'Punch" Silkie starts in the very unusual key of A flat but the fiddler is good and soon has transposed the tune to blend with the lass' tune.

Just like a man ...can't seperte their eyes from our chests!

préachán is Gaelic for crow/raven I do not know the pronounciation but can find out. Patrick just ruined Satsfaction for me. Unyielding , something about that I like. Southernmost is almost it but ...not there. Utmostsouth ...Absolutesouth (Perhaps we could get absolute Vodka to be a sponser! ) ...Steelawaysouth ...Farsouth ...SouthernEdge ...SouthernTip ...Southpoint ...keep thinking

Well, I would be less dissapointed by it if My hair wasn't naturally curly. :angry:

Aye lad, tis a grand song but I still don't like it as the name for our ship ...besides, I'd rather have us write our own song! LOL Oh... wait... as a resident of the port city and not a member of the crew do I get any say?

Well aint that unfair! Men ken wear their hair down but but the wimmens needs t'be pull it up!

I tried to ignor the top 10 of anyone else and go with my gut. Sorry but I had to add ...here it is ...I spill my gut. :) 1. Pace/Pacer 2. Sisters - this implies there is another, perhaps near by 3. Buckram 4. Adamant - utterly unyielding ...Unyielding could be a good name also. 5. Satisfaction 6. Retaliation 7. Peregrine 8. Dispatch 9. Pandora ("all gifted") 10. Southernmost ...and one absolutely not! Commerce NO! NO! NO!

Beff barley! MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM... one of my favorites! YUMMIE!

Awwww lads. I hate t'break it to ya. Most o'd'wenches are dressed in street clothes ...fer some reason um tinken det wont b'a problem fer d'likes o'you! Hands over the never empty flask of pocheen after hearing the ...notes that boots has flattened.

Well dis past year I won the Traditional Irish Singin competition so ifin ya do come up fer jus a day yull ave to make it on the day uv d'competition.

Well Mister MacGee ya should try the Celtic Classic in Bethlehem this year. September. Celtic Classic

Raspberries! Jackymy lad ...I do believe we have arrivved in heaven together!

"Aye Capn', tank ya" She was about to turn and go but paused. "A written list sur?" "Please." Again she paused as the Captain waited patiently. "Please sur, wher m'I t'get paper n'quill" He smiled, "Ask Miss Smith, she will be able to supply you with what you require." "Tank ya sur" She knuckled her for head and turned away to find Miss Smith.

Is that what heaven tastes like?! Here I figured it tasted like dark chocolate.

Her blush brightened as he addressed her. "Capn' Brand sur, I'd b'addressin d'Quarter master ifin he were on d'ship buot, since he's otter responsibilities aboard d'Heron I tot it best t'talk t'yoo. I'been makin an inventory uv d'sail supplies in d'hold. Wit wot we used on s'flute n'cutter were short o'sail cloth. N'we should also make sure w've got tred n'perhaps a few new needles while ashore." She held tight the rail of the stairs, knuckles white, her heart pounding in her chest.

Ooooooh Willlllllllliam She cries out in a tone that could get her in trouble with Maeve That is magnificent!

Murin thanked Mister Hand again for his assistance. She had enjoyed talking with the lad as he did the work she felt guilty not doing. Patrick, who seemed to keep mostly to himself, became quite verbose with very little prompting from the girl. He was a wealth of knowledge and had a high intellect with a surprising abundance of creative ideas. This pleased the lass to no end and made the time spent in his company pass quickly. After they had presented the French colors to the captain Murin felt free again to let her mind wander toward the waiting island. She mentally compiled a list of things that she wanted to purchase while ashore. Shirts, slops, perhaps a skirt, a chemise, oh! …she had yet to return the one she had borrowed from Tempest, she would have to find someone to launder it while ashore since she could not do so herself. The chemise and Chanaults linen kerchief! Murin glanced down at her bandage wrapped left hand again. Doctor Fitzgerald had Monsure Chanault dressed the wound this morning. The doctor inspected it herself and was pleased. The angry red that had been rimming the wound was now a healthy pink. The swelling was gone. Finally the girl had managed to not tear it open in the past three days. She reiterated her previous instructions and advised the girl to continue extending and flexing the fingers to keep the muscles strong and useful. The doctor again warned that if Miss McDonough did manage to tear open the wound once more she would be forced to immobilize it. Murin marveled at the fact that a few cactus spines could cause her so much aggravation. Looking up at the wind filled sails Murin again began her list. Sail cloth. She needed to inspect the sails, see what condition they were in. What stores they had aboard. She had in the past day taken the time to inventory what was in the hold. They would need some sailcloth to replace what was used on the Heron and Maastricht. Waxed linen thread, perhaps a few new needles. She would have to talk to the captain. Once again she made her way to the bottom of the stairs below the holy ground and waited for the captain. She was contented to wait there watching him. He appeared comfortable in his command. It seemed a natural state for him. She looked at him admiring his stature, his dress, his carriage. She was startled when Nathan, now at her elbow, stated "Might help if you let your presence be known to the man." She turned to Nathan, a blush washed her face. Nathan looked upset about something. "Are you well lad?" she asked. "Just fine." He replied in a tone that indicated that he was anything but fine before he turned and walked briskly away.