half-assed pirate

To say she had gone stir crazy was a pleasant little understatement. The long winter had kept her almost fully secluded within a short range from a den that she had dug during its first harsh storm. Sio had been living a quiet, undisturbed life - roaming where she liked, painting as she went - but the winter had taken all of that from her. She'd been grounded, more or less, for the better part of the last year. No supplies left to paint. Barely enough food to get by. When the weather finally broke and the permafrost began to melt, she'd staggered out of her den like the hermit she'd become, blinking her bleary eyes at the bright sun that ricocheted off of the rest of the unmelted carpet of white.

She'd spent the fall finally stretching her limbs again, those atrophied muscles complaining all of the while. When winter began to set in for the second time - although she could tell by the typical chill in the air that it would be a plain, regular winter, thank goodness - she'd immediately set out to find some things to tinker with. Siobhan wouldn't be caught dead without something to occupy her time during the long, cold nights ahead. By the time Tyrian stood dripping on the ship's hull, Sio had already been there for hours. The ocean that separated the ship and nearby island from the coast was a narrow passage but terribly cold. It had bitten down to her very bones. There were points in her crossing where she thought the current would sweep her away, but her still-weakened muscles prevailed. She had already explored the rotted out levels below, mindful of the waves that swept in and out of the ship. There wasn't much to look at - it seemed like all of the good stuff had been mostly plundered. Nevertheless, the salty air stung her lungs in a particularly pleasing way. Sio breathed deeply and heartily, fully relishing a world that she could once again participate in.

Sure, her ribs might be peeking through her coat, and sure, she was very much alone on this giant hulking ship. But this was just a single waypoint on life's journey. Feeling much more zen about the grand scheme of things, Siobhan was about to plunge back into the water and head towards the island proper when she heard the splintering of claws on wood behind her. She froze. Did big cats... swim? Tigers did. Sort of. Right? Sio turned slowly, her warm breath misting on the cold air. Oh! Not a cat at all. Just a handsome fellow - albeit with huge claws. Play it cool. Easy breezy. With a swish of her tail, she said: "Was your mother or father the tiger that gave you those claws?" It had been so, so long since she'd seen another face. Socializing like a normal, well-adjusted creature might take some time.