Clammy forehead resting heavily on her forearm, body trembling from the force of her muscles constricting every time she vomited, Navia rued ever stepping foot on the<i>Uttarana. </i>Eyes closed and stomach too weak to continue its rebellion against the rest of her body, Navia instead focused on listening to Théadan working with Wyndagar. She didn’t look his way, turning her head would take up too much energy, but just used her ears. She could hear the alarm in Wyndagar’s whinnies, but she knew there was no one better than Théadan to calm him. He did as she suggested as well, having the horse lie down on the floor of the ship to center its mass and reduce the likelihood of him hurting himself. Théadan paired his calming words with a word in Mes’Mo’Tanian she did not know, but Navia was too weakened from her nausea to bother asking. She could do that later.<br/><br/>The sea continued to tumultuously rock the ship to and fro, the yells of sailors trying to keep the vessel upright trickled down to them, and Navia tried desperately to focus on Théadan’s voice instead of how much she hated being on a ship for the time being. He spoke of them instead searching for a home on a river or near a lake instead of the sea and if Navia didn’t fear how her body would react if she sat up, she would have protested it. Perhaps she was no longer interested in being on a ship, but she still enjoyed the ocean. She liked the salty smell in the air; she liked the beaches. Surely there was a place that they could call home that would have a field right by the water where they could have a home and Wyndagar could run unhindered.<br/><br/>He went on and Navia sorely wished she could be involved in such a conversation with Théadan. A cottage sounded small. She had never lived anywhere small. Wouldn’t they get bored? Would they get sick of being around each other in such a confined space? She wasn’t thinking a palace by any means, but they had to have a little room to move around, didn’t they? Oh, but how nice it sounded. Waking up every morning beside him, in a home that belonged to them. A place where they belonged together. She could paint and Wyndagar could run and Théadan could…well, Théadan could do whatever interested him most. Navia frowned to herself upon realizing Théadan might not know what he would do with himself. He knew swords and fighting and city guarding…but he also knew writing. A small, wistful smile tugged at Navia’s lips, masked by her face hovering over the wooden bucket. Théadan could write.<br/><br/>He startled her when he came near and spoke of bringing her more water, breaking the serene mood that had overcome her from listening to him and daydreaming of their future. Navia sat up as Théadan said he would be back, her teary eyes fearful. “No, don’t—“ She started to reach out for him, not wanting his calming presence to leave her, only to realize how needy of her that probably was and Navia shook her head. “Thank you,” she said instead, the hand rising up to stop him instead going to brush at the pained tears that had slid down her cheeks, “Be careful and don’t go to the main deck.” She would be twisted up in fear if Théadan was up there, susceptible to the wind and waves.<br/><br/>Once he was gone, she leaned back on the wall and looked over to see how Wyndagar was faring. He seemed less agitated lying down, but she could still see how dismayed he was by their situation. Wanting to soothe him, figuring they could be miserable together if she went and sat with him, Navia unsteadily brought herself up to her feet. She took a few tentative steps with her hand bracing the wall and was only a couple feet from Wyndagar when the boat suddenly lurched to the side. It knocked Navia into the wall hard, jarring her should and pulling a pained gasp from her as she lost her footing all over again. She slid down the wall while the men decks above yelled words she was too distracted to process, her hand reaching out to smooth over her throbbing shoulder. “I’m sorry, Wyn,” Navia said pitchily, tears rushing faster now as the pain and frustration got the best of her while her stomach clenched up all over again, “I thought I could, but I can’t…I can’t…” She didn't dare try to move again. The ship was being tossed around more violently and her body was so sore from all the heaving.