Leonard sighs softly as he makes his way down the gangplank, muttering something uncouth under his breath once he fells that he's far enough away from James.  The grey-furred mouse feels exhausted, having scrubbed and waxed the decks until the wee hours of the morning in order to give the ship a neat and tidy appearance. And now he was assigned to Cargp Duty, as well.. Fantastic. This wasn't entirely what he'd expected when he'd signed up. "But perhaps," he thinks to himself. "Perhaps it gets better once you've left shore. Maybe then the others 'lll stop making the newcommer do much of the work.." He reaches a handpaw up to his chest and gently fondles what seems to be small locket through the fabric of his coarse, greyish shirt, before letting the paw drop back down again.<br/><br/>The mouse was, like Anastasia, seeking a new life in another world, where his 'poor breeding' wouldn't matter. Where he could live without being looked down upon for being a member of the working class. Where he'd be judged by his actions and deeds, not his family tree.<br/><br/>But unlike Anastasia, Leonard did not have any ammount of money to fall back upon in order to pay his way.  So he'd signed up as a member of the crew, willing to work in exchange for passage aboard the ship, and a reasonable income (for him, anyways). He admitted to himself that he wasn't sure where he planned on getting off, but anywhere had to be better than here.<br/><br/>His footpaws slap gently against the rough wood as he moves towards Anastasia, eying the luggage wearily. Still, he draws himself up to his full four-foot height (which was reasonably tall, for a 'pure-bred' mouse), nodding to Anastasia as he stops in front of her. "Good day, ma'am. You're here for the Grosvenor?"