“I dare say none of us could qualify as an expert but at least one of us cares about sanitation enough.” he grumbled back. As per usual, the bickering between the two was constant, William not able to shut up when the Sparrow opened his mouth yet there was no bite or cruel intention to his words.
He sighed through his nose, dark eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he focused on the wound once again, after cleaning it thoroughly and managing to cease the bleeding. He was patching it safely now, thankful that the pirate had ceased his endless movement in aid to his actions. The faster he would finish it, the sooner he could leave Sparrow alone to move as much as he wanted.
He grasped his shoulders to force him to look further once again, almost rolling his eyes at the man’s attitude before focusing on finishing the patching. “It has not, trust me. It isn’t big enough. It might leave a scar but not enough to affect the ink.” he assured and furrowed his eyebrows. The colours were a new discovery of sorts for the young man, not a common view in Port Royal. “Where have you gotten them?”
Jack supposed he had to hand that one to the lad – there were few on the seas who could be counted as experts and nearly all of them were in the employ of the Navy or the Company, neither of which were particularly partial toward aiding wounded pirates nearly as much as they were to causing the wounds themselves.
In recognition of Turner’s wit Jack opted to offer him no argument – a signal of truce if nothing else, at least for the present standing moment. He could have done without quite so much manhandling, but as it was he did face forward without complaint, which was a greater obedience than he offered to most – though of course, it simply benefited him best at the moment to be agreeable.
He was appeased, therefore, when Turner confirmed there was no damage to his ink. Enough so that he relaxed slightly enough the question received an almost straightforward reply. “All over, back mostly.” It occurred to him then the whelp might have meant where in the world, at which point, he laughed a bit at his own unintended wit, then, “A town in the Bahamas for that piece – why, thinking of getting some yourself?” That’d be something he’d damn near pay to see.
Ocean Archive 