Not in a million years did she ever think that she would have been in the situation that she was in. Then again, she was not sure she ever expected to find herself with the need to shimmy up a rope and into the underbelly of a ship belonging to a man she tried to kill. Yet, there she was, stripped down to the bare minimum, save for a pair of pistols, and her sword. She had to leave her hat behind, along with her overcoat. It all left her with the sensation of being naked. Unfortunately, there was no other way for her to get to this bastard and the Queen was never one to be denied what she wanted or needed.<br/><br/>One of the many holes granted her access into the ship, pistol out and cocked she slowly and silently made her way to the top of the deck. A stack of crates her means of cover when the daft thief left the captain quarters, then it was just a matter of slipping in behind her and setting the lock.<br/><br/>â€œYou know,â€ she spoke boldly and without a hint of fear, as her form turned to regard Rotter. The bandaged bastard looked about as run down and ragged as he looked the last time she saw him. â€œI hate having to give chase for my property,â€ her still silent steps, save for the creaking of the floor itself. â€œI also hate having more of my property being taken again, by someone who probably can not tell the difference between the blow hole on a whale and their own asshole,â€ finally her steps stopped at the table he sat at and she bent forward to rest her hands on the flat surface, so that she might glare at him at eye level.<br/><br/>â€œWhat I hate the most....the absolute most,â€she leaned forward a bit. â€œI lost rum and wenches in the fight. So, what are we going to do about my lost wenches?â€