"Oh this is not good..."  Skye murmured to herself, looking down over the side at a long grey tentacle. She latched onto the mind that entered hers and lashed out. <Do not resist, my furry ass!><br/><br/>She sprinted below deck to her room, opening a chest at the foot of the bed and strapping on knives, guns, and ammunition of all descriptions. Unlike probably everyone else on the ship, she ran back up on deck, a bowie knife in one hand, a rifle in the other.<br/><br/>The lioness headed straight for the edge of the ship and started shooting, the gun's recoil having absolutely no effect on her strong bones.