Adrenaline

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   Since her battle with the Kraken, Little Cloud had found herself become a respected member of the crew in the few days that passed. But in order to keep a standing of dignity and respect, it was impossible for her to open up as she could her old crew. A constant scowl had made it's home on her face, and she glowered along as she strode about her tasks. Honesty, Little Cloud had no vendetta with that. Since she came to this earth, an attitude of vengeance and violence had descended into her soul. 

   Discipline was a big thing aboard the Dutchman as well. Anyone who acted up of showed signs of disrespect to the captain or slack on duties was whipped. Life on the Flying Dutchman was quite brutal. And Little Cloud liked it. She manned he helm, mostly, and oversaw the work the crew did as they sailed.  

  Jones secluded himself inside his quarters most of the time, brooding, playing the organ, and letting his reputation la fear into his underlings. Little Cloud didn't fear him though. On her fifth day as first mate, they attacked another ship.

  Little Cloud saw it all go down. The Kraken wrapped it tentacles around the ships hull and collapsed it, leaving only soggy wreckage with a few survivors clinging to life. Accept these ones fought. 

   Little Cloud lead a party onto the wreck, only to find several pistols pointed at her. She dodged, but the rest were not as fast, rebounding into the ocean. She looked back at them, sniffing at disappointment in their failures.

   Bam. Bam. Bam. Little Cloud looked down and saw three crimson holes in her stomach. 

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