<div style="background-color:#353535; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Not for the first time, Mal was grateful for Blake's lack of brains. It was a love-hate relationship, really. On one hand, it genuinely sucked sometimes to have to explain every little detail. On the other, he rarely cared as long as he knew it was all her idea, because she was so much smarter than him.<br/><br/>"Oh, well, female emission," she replied, pronouncing the strange words with some difficulty. She had heard her mom say it once in response to a time she had caught Mal with expensive, purple dye all over, and Mal had asked how she had known she'd been doing something she wasn't supposed to. She winced at the memory - the slap still stung, even eight years later.<br/><br/>As satisfying as it was to see Cor and Company drown, Mal's stomach decided they had been watching long enough, and growled loudly. She rubbed at it absentmindedly. The galleon was amazing, she had never seen a ship that large. Even if the people sailing it weren't pirates, Mal would be able to <span style="font-style: italic">find</span> pirates if they were aboard, wouldn't she? And maybe they could get a trusted position and then turn on the entire crew and take over the ship for themselves! Yes, this was certainly no raft.<br/><br/>Mutiny would have to wait. Food was more important. She hopped down from the barrel with a dejected sigh and shot Blake a very telling look. Even if he was less intelligent, he had the better nose of the two, and might be able to sniff out something edible.</div></div>