Donovan declared the ship a<em>good riddance</em>and<em>unlucky</em>, and Aza's blue eyes widened, apparently affronted. Worse yet, Dean made no attempt to refute Don's judgment, only standing there in the boat like an idiot. An idiot that seemed to be impervious to Aza's most minacious stare. So she snorted and turned to the boat with a dramatic swirl of long cape, and proceeded to make herself the most comfortable place possible to sit in the small craft's bow. It was a nice seat from which to watch the men finish packing. And not located anywhere near any oars.<br/><br/>Methuseld, meanwhile, had made her way back down into the ship, then proceeded to ditch the fox-Aza right outside the very shadow-drenched den that had spawned it. Somewhat annoyed at having its paws back on the rough boards, the fox also snorted as it went to follow at the general's heels... and then blinked as Methuseld shut the door almost on its nose. It yipped once, something that was probably a Foxish insult about Methuseld's mother or maybe her weight, then spun to march back to the deck and breeze past Don and Dean on its way to girl-Aza's lap.<br/><br/>The two Azas snuggled and seemed to quietly converse until Methuseld returned, neither listening to whatever Donovan went on to say after that. He was probably just repeating himself anyway. He was more than fine to look at -- especially so, presently lacking any competition from his shadowy half -- but he still talked too much.<br/><br/><em>Goodbye, ship,</em>the fox 'said,' looking out from under a fold of the girl's cloak as the ship made its own departure from the noticeable realm. Aza sighed, setting her chin on the fox's head and glancing at Dean, then turning her attentions out to the water and the nearing city spread across its shore. "Ahead, a fight," she remarked, just conversationally.