Methuseld soon realized they weren't getting anywhere near the dock anytime soon. They were at full mast, but... there was barely any wind at all, least of all enough to move such a massive ship at any reasonable speed towards its destination. If there was a current, they'd probably be drifting with it. Aaaand.... that was about the extent of Methuseld's knowledge. Any Lord from her homeland had to know a fair amount about ships and trade, as most of their wealth stemmed from the maritime sort, but the amount one can pick up from osmosis is often limited. Their best bet was to search the deck (or below deck) for a boat, and row to the dock on that. No doubt the townsfolk would want an explanation, but perhaps they'd be able to sell off the damn thing to some old fool (the town's vizier?) who wanted to rival Vizier Zazim's might. What one did with an ocean-faring ship on a large lake was beyond Methuseld's expertise, but perhaps a more creative individual could be found.<br/><br/>Sighing, the woman released her hold on the massive wheel and turned around, leaning on it in a standoff-ish manner. Between the folded arms and the vague scowl (which she wore quite easily and naturally), she might as well have had thorns for how much human contact she wanted at the moment. However, about ten minutes of awkward silence later, she decided to peak out of her shell.... to make a declaration. "It appears we must wait for the wind to pick up. Or perhaps, if or when the two others emerge from... whatever it is they are up to... we can discuss lowering a boat and rowing to shore. I'm going to have a look about the deck." With that, she walked down the solid wooden steps that lead up to the helm. "Oh, and one more thing..." Ponderously she turned back to the Knight. "To me, you are still my kidnapper. You saved my life so that I may function as a hostage, or for barter with that thrice-cursed man, Zazim. Do not think a kind comment or two will put you in my good graces. I can tell you think you are a good man, but know you this - I am a woman of action, and words unaccompanied by action will do little to sway me. So for now, you are a kidnapper who wants to be friendly, and not much more."<br/><br/>With that, she turned around and walked back, pulling a few stray locks of silver-blonde hair away from her forehead and tucking them behind her ear. She did not know whether her words would have any effect on the man. He'd at times threatened to get his friend to rape her, and at others been quite kind - he confused her, and with seemingly all her curses being broken she had a lot else on her plate to deal with at the moment.<br/><br/>Minutes slipped by, with Methuseld readying a boat for the four of them, until out of the corner of her eye she saw someone walk out onto the deck. At first, she did not recognize the man. Or... boy, rather. She approached, almost hailed him as 'hey boy, what are you doing on this ship and where did you come from', when the boy turned to her and she noticed familiar features. Scrunching up her face, the blonde beauty stared at him until finally the realization of his identity caused a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Musical, carefree, relatively unteasing laughter sounded from her throat as the gorgeous blonde doubled over, roaring waves of hilarity issuing from her throat just as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She laughed for perhaps a couple of minutes, until finally... she tried to make an effort to stop. To no effect, of course. Face turning red, Methuseld fell on the deck, laughing at Dean's new appearance but even moreso now at her inability to stop. Damn, it had been a while since that had happened to her.<br/><br/>A good three minutes later she settled down, and between sobbing chuckles that served as aftershocks the red-faced woman managed to gasp out a couple of words. "What?" and "how?" and "why???"