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Post by Carrow on Jul 30, 2010 11:19:32 GMT -5
Selvis smiled slightly to himself as he heard Horace acknowledge the efforts of the mustelid team. He was actually rather surprised at how well he was doing. Unlike his rodent companion, the weasel had developed an interest in naval affairs while he'd grown up back home, so it wasn't at all like he didn't have some foreknowledge of what was to take place.
All the same, though, he was clearly grateful to Dorian for being as thorough as possible in his instructions. It was not his own safety that the weasel was worrying about, but rather those of his companions - Elliot and Carrow in particular. It's not that the pair didn't seem cut out for life at sea, but the mustelid was of the opinion that creatures who were prone to nerves had a much tougher time of it on board.
He was getting to know his companions better as the days went by, and it seemed to him that Caden was the most confident of the three. He'd gone about his tasks with an ease that suggested this whole thing came naturally to him. All three were doing their best, that much was clear, but he was genuinely concerned about the mouse. He seemed to be constantly anxious about something. Elliot didn't have that, thankfully. In fact, as he watched him now, he noticed the marten was starting to settle.
His thoughts turned next to the ferret. This Spender Cielciosk creature had been doing his best to stay out of their way for a considerable length of time. He couldn't help but wonder if there was some sort of bad blood between the furo and his shipmates. Spender, whoever he was, remained elusive still.
He had been passively taking in the otter's next commands whilst all this had been whirling around in his mind. He put those thoughts to one side and focused again as he heard the aquatic mustelid's order. Following his teammate's lead, Selvis got the pawspike into position underneath the breach, and then got to work again.
He poured all of his strength into his endeavours, pulling for all he was worth as he waited for the 'jack' to act. Slowly, steadily, he started the levering process, muscles bulging as he did so.
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Post by Ladorak on Jul 30, 2010 17:47:56 GMT -5
Peskers and Selvis levered the breech of the gun up, allowing Horace to shove the quion forward. This caused the tilt of the muzzle to slip down. "Hold it...hold it..." he adjusted the quion a bit, pulling it out then pushing it back in. "Hold it...and that's it!" Peskers gratefully let go, and slid her pawspike back out.
"OK! Next order is simple. FIRE! This is the part where the gun goes boom and we try and sink that barrel. So..." he grabbed hold of the lanyard, backing up to about amidships, well out of range of the gun's recoil. "When this order is given, I yank this lanyard, and the gun will go off. Everyone please take a few steps back...do NOT stand close to the gun. Your paws and legs could get crushed easily if the gun rolls over you. It weighs three and a half tons...it easily could maim beasts like you. Also...cover your ears or you might go deaf for a few minutes after it goes off. In battle, I would recommend tying a scarf or something about your head to push your ears down against your skull and block out the noise. Can still hear the orders, and won't go deaf when the gun goes off."
The grison Gunner's Mate moved up to the cannon, opening up of the lid of the gunlock and pulling the hammer back until it clicked into place. He let go and went back over to where Spender was sitting. Horace continued. "The gun will recoil backward, but the breech rope will stop it from moving too far back. Now Ralph...pay attention as this is VERY important. As SOON as the gun stops moving, jam your pawspike in front of it underneath the wheels to act as a chock and prevent the gun from rolling forward again. We don't want a loose cannon after all, so make sure you shove your pawspike in there to stop it. I'll reattach the train tackle as quickly as I can and at that point the gun will be unable to move forward, so you'll be able to remove your pawspike. Got it?"
Peskers nodded, hoping she wouldn't mess up. "It's always the pawspiker on the right that does this...NOT the left. If two get thrown in there it'll make a mess. Peskers is the pawspiker on the right...so he's the one to do it. OK...everyone back away from the gun...and cover your ears! Auxiliaries...as soon as the lanyard is yanked, let go of the tackles and step back!" Caden backed up three to four steps, clamping his big ears against the side of his head with his paws.
Ocean was ready to let the rope go and back up as fast as he could. There was a silence that settled over everyone...and then the shout came. "FIRE!" the otter jerked on the lanyard, the hammer sailed forward, striking its flint against the metal frizzen, creating sparks that exploded the small amount of powder in the gunlock's pan, which in turn set the fuse on fire, the quill burning rapidly and reaching the black powder in the gun chamber in only a matter of seconds.
The black powder ignited, blowing apart the cartridge and pushing the ball out of the barrel and through the sky. The wads simply disintegrated, the force of the explosion tearing them to shreds.
With a thunderous boom the gun went off, rolling violently backward until the breeching rope checked its backward progress. Peskers immediately shoved her pawspike down in front of the gun wheels, preventing the gun from rolling forward and possibly crushing some hapless crew beast.
Horace dived for the train tackle, and in one swift motion attached it to the back of the gun carriage, ensuring the gun wouldn't roll forward. Peskers could now remove her pawspike, which she quickly did, paws shaking at the great force that caused such a tumult within her. The shot splashed only a few inches to the left of the red painted barrel, throwing up a great plume of water and tossing the barrel through the air as if it were nothing but a toy.
"That...would be a hit!" Horace exclaimed! "Not on the target itself, but definitely on the enemy hull! We were only a few inches off! Alright, next order is vital! It sounds like SERVE YOUR VENT! This is simply for the Gun Captain. I place my left thumb into this leather covered thumbstall here..." he slid his "thumb", or the closest thing to it, into what looked like a contraption sitting near the vent of the gun that resembled a miniature gallows. The leather was lined with horsehair to keep his thumb safe, and he pressed down over the vent of the gun, completely covering it. "Now why am I doing this? When we get to the next step, sponging the inside of the gun down, well...if this vent weren't covered then hot fragments or sparks could be forced up into the vent by the vacuum created by the sponge entering the muzzle of the gun. Afterward, they would drift back down and possibly set off some black powder still remaining in the barrel...and could end up blowing our Loader's arm off accidentally."
Caden gulped, fixing Horace with a worried stare. Really? He could have his...arm blown off?
"However, by covering the vent that prevents the creation of a vacuum, and all the sparks would remain inside the barrel, which the sponge would quickly extinguish once it's inserted. This doohickey is convenient as it prevents me from involuntarily jerking my thumb back when the hot air hits it. So...SERVE YOUR VENT!"
Snapping the stall into a locked position, the otter's thumb was stuck now, unable to jerk away when the heat would hit it.
"Next order is for our Sponger. WORM AND SPONGE! This is normally done after every fourth shot. But for practice, we're going to do it now. Carrow, this comprises two parts. You have a rammer, a worm, and a sponge. Your Assistant Sponger will now paw you the worm, which is like the rammer but instead has that corkscrew wire on the end of it. Shove that into the muzzle until you reach the very end, and then make sure the tip of the corkscrew is pointing up. When you reach the gun chamber, run the edge of the worm back and forth over the bottom of the vent...that will remove any leftover junk that might have gotten stuck in there and open it up so that my vent pricker won't be blocked from piercing the cartridge during our reload. It would also ensure the quill can be inserted in there as well for the next round of firing."
He paused here, to let the mouse digest that. "After running the sharp end over the vent bottom a few times, withdraw the worm, and pick up your sponge, which is the only thing you haven't used yet." The sponge was on the end of a long pole, very similar to the rammer. "Dunk the sponge into that bucket of water next to you, and then slide it into the muzzle like you did with the rammer and worm. Wipe the inside of the gun down as thoroughly as you can. This will cool the barrel off and extinguish any leftover embers or sparks and well...save Caden's paw." he half joked. "Got it? After that, we're ready for reloading. OK so...let's try this. WORM AND SPONGE!"
Caden gave Carrow a "don't screw up look", but it wasn't harsh. It was just a look saying "you can do this. My arm rests in your paws after all." He grinned now, despite how nervous he felt, mostly because he wanted to reassure his rodent companion and make sure he understood that he at least had the marten's confidence in this. "You got this mate!" the albino added, as way of encouragement.
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Post by Carrow on Jul 30, 2010 18:22:19 GMT -5
Oh, corks!, Carrow thought, gulping visibly as he listened to Horace instruct him. This was not good. This was NOT what he'd wanted to hear, in any way, shape or form, and he immediately tensed up, becoming frozen to the spot for a moment. He had no problem with taking in the commands - no problem at all. It was just the fact that he was (in his own mind) barely even managing passable attempts as it was, so how in the name of his whiskers was he going to pull all this off?
He nodded shakily, unable to disguise the catch in his voice, and when he spoke, his voice was a tremulous, high-pitched squeak. "Y-yes sir..." He looked to Caden, wondering if there was any support forthcoming, and he looked relieved when he heard his pine marten friend's voice. All the same, the mouse couldn't hide his fear. He hadn't 'got' this. He just hadn't. He was convinced he was going to screw the whole operation up - and he was genuinely terrified of what would happen if that came to pass.
The rodent looked next to his hedgehog Assistant Sponger, twirling his paw in a gesture that indicated his impatience to get the job over and done with. The hedgehog acted quickly, placing the worm into the mouse's paws. Before he turned away, however, the creature whispered in Carrow's ear. "Listen to Caden... you're going to be fine..." With that said, he shuffled off back to his former position, leaving the Dibbun to begin the task.
He moved as though the deck underneath his paws was on fire. It was clear to every creature present that their Sponger was suffering from stress. He couldn't hide it at all. He had learned that disguising feelings never ended well. He had learned the hard way... The mouse shoved the worm into the muzzle, his arm driving it into the other side. He was hoping he hadn't made a mess of even that most simple of tasks.
The long-tailed field mouse took a peek, and though he couldn't be certain, he had a good feeling that the corkscrew was in the correct position. As it was, he had reached the gun chamber. Right then, on to the next step, he thought, apprehension evident on his features. He began to run the edge of the worm along the vent just as he had been commanded. Back and forth, Carrow thought, back and forth, just like a pendulum... I'm sure you know how to do that, right?!
He repeated the process nearly a dozen times, which was probably more than had been necessary, but the mouse really did want to do a good job for them - and for himself. After judging that he had done enough, the younster withdrew the worm, before glancing over to his right. He set the worm down nearby and picked up the sponge. It bucked and jerked in his trembling paws, but Carrow did his best to steady himself.
Okay... this was the last step. Do this, and you'll get a bit of a breather. That's worth it, right? The mouse knew he had the eyes of every creature that comprised the gun crew upon him at that moment. He... he wasn't used to this kind of attention. Well... more accurately, he was used to attention of this sort, but under completely different circumstances... ones that ensured things didn't end up good for him....
He shivered visibly, forcing himself to think of the task at paw. he dunked the sponge, then came forward and inserted it into the muzzle, wiping it down speedily but thoroughly, leaving no spot unattended to. Soon, he felt he was finished, and withdrew the sponge, smiling nervously as he set it down beside the worm and rammer. He was shaking like a leaf now. He couldn't even bring himself to meet the eyes of his best friend for reassurance. He'd done all he could, but it was clear that Carrow wasn't holding up well...
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Post by Ladorak on Jul 30, 2010 18:39:23 GMT -5
"Right! That does it! Should be fine...hey! Mouse! Carrow!" the Gunner called out to him. "Relax alright? We only fired the gun once. It won't be THAT hot inside. That was just for practice. Every fourth shot you'll be doing that. Plus my thumb was over the vent the entire time, couldn't even flinch if I wanted to as it was locked securely in place...literally." he tapped the thumbstall, trying to move his thumb without success.
Unlocking the stall, he withdrew his thumb, sighing happily. "Loosen up alright? You're doing fine...though watch your speed. You should ideally be ramming only four times, and worming about...six. Don't overdo it, as it'll slow us down and slow down our rate of fire. We're Welkinite after all...we fire faster and kick the ever living crud out of our opponents...right?" He asked gamely, giving the mouse a grin. "Just relax...stay focused on your tasks at paw...do them thoroughly but don't overdo them with that said. Just stay on task. OK...we'll repeat the process this time, but with minimal instruction from myself. I want to see how well we do on our own, and if you remember everything. I'll help if needed. We'll shoot the next two cartridges off and then take a break. See how fast we can run through this."
He looked over at Spender. "You'll need to walk with your saltbox up to Caden, open it up, let him take out a cartridge, close it, and walk back to where you are now, got it? OK so...LOAD WITH CARTRIDGE!"
Caden stood by the mouth of the gun, waiting for Spender to come up to him. Ugh...he had to work with Spender...just great. The thought did not appeal to him, but what other choice did he have? Spender had picked the random number, so now he was the powder carrier.
Caden briefly glanced in Carrow's direction, but the mouse wasn't looking at him. Oh well...best get to the task at paw...shoving that cartridge and the wad into the barrel.
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Post by Carrow on Jul 31, 2010 6:49:42 GMT -5
Carrow was having trouble dealing with everything that was pressing down on him, and remained gazing into the middle distance. The fact that he was going through changes only exacerbated his worries, and the rodent really just wanted the sea to come crashing through the timbers and sweep him off to who-knows-where. It was rather unfortunate that he should be in turmoil of this sort now, but he found himself to no longer be in full control.
Then he decided that if things were going to take their toll on him, he would only let them do so later. After all this was done. It was all far too important for him to have a meltdown here in front of everyone, and so he reckoned that he would indeed follow Horace's advice and focus on the tasks that lay ahead of him. Most of the otter's instructions had come to him whilst he'd been in a kind of trance, but somehow he'd understood.
With this choice made, the wood mouse snapped out of his daze, and immediately looked over at Caden, trying to catch his friend's eye. A lull had sprung up following Dorian's commands; as usual, Spender hadn't hopped to it right away. Carrow had come to expect nothing less from the ferret, but he was thankful for the brief break before the whole process started again. He called softly to the pine marten, and suddenly Carrow sounded two octaves deeper than he had before.
"He's having us run through this again, right?" Despite it all, the wood mouse smiled. "Best of luck then, mate, though I'd say I'm going to need it a lot more than you will. You've been the best out of all of us at this thing, after all." More than anything, Carrow had wanted to let the mustelid know that he was still there, to a certain extent at least. There was no use in locking up and shutting every other creature out whilst you were performing these tasks; certainly not while practicing.
Relax, Carrow, he told himself. Take deep breaths, just like before. Maybe Horace is right; maybe you've been doing alright this whole time, and that's something, isn't it? You're going to be just fine out here, I know it. Even though you've been through a lot, you're still here to tell the tale, and that says a lot about you. You're not just going to give up, don't worry. He was still watching Caden, waiting for a response from the albino. Then, the long-tailed field mouse heard an altogether darker part of his mind speak up.
You've been doing your best, but it just hasn't been good enough. You're not good enough... Cerinus. You should just throw the towel in right now, because you're not going to last. Even this coming year is going to be too much for you. I can just see it now: you're going to fall apart. You won't last long. Look at yourself. You've always been weak and useless, and out here it's the strong and resourceful that survive. There are going to be certain creatures on board who aren't going to be cut out for life at sea, but I can tell you this now: you're not one of them!
Carrow wrenched himself away from those thoughts before they consumed him, just as they had done so many times in the past. He couldn't give into them, not here, not in front of his friends! Even though his pessimistic side remained far stronger than the optimistic part of him, he had been learning to resist it - with a little help from Archie - before he left home, and he was putting up a fight within himself. In the end, his new-found hopeful nature won out, and he smiled again.
That had been a favourite tactic of the bullies back when he'd been at school. They had made him doubt himself; they had belittled him with psychological taunting until he could no longer stand it, usually retreating to some secluded corner of the school grounds to cry out his despair. But Archie had told him something once, and it was something that even then he'd found himself unable to forget: Those who take pleasure in making others doubt themselves are simply masking their own faults.
Masking their own faults, he thought. Just like Spender. I can't defend myself against him - against anyone; I've never been able to, but... maybe she was right all along? This thought boosted him and brought a wide smile to his face. He knew he'd have to see the ferret now as he had been called to help Caden - and thus come closer to meeting Selvis than ever before - but Carrow knew for a fact that he was in good company. Spender simply wouldn't be allowed to trouble him here. Then again, he thought, the blue sky in his mind's eye suddenly filling with ominous clouds, that's the problem with him: He doesn't take well to orders.
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Post by spender on Jul 31, 2010 8:34:15 GMT -5
Spender smiled dreamily at the cannon. He wobbled a little on his barrel. The blast had been... loud. Like fireworks! But not.
The ferret was, in fact, day dreaming. In the dream, he had two cannons in front of him as he stood at one end of the deck, and Caden and Carrow stood at the other. Elliot, who he was largely indifferent to, sat off to the side with a pennant flag that said "Hooray!"*. Spender lined up the shots... and fired! Boom! Boom! And there went Caden and Carrow, flying through the air with cannonballs in their guts, until they hit a bulkhead and blasted through. Little pine marten and mouse-shaped holes, with only the tails sticking through the bottoms! Haha!
"Haha!" he said aloud.
"Something funny, Spender?" Horace said. "I said, LOAD WITH CARTRIDGE!"
"Oh."
Spender hurried; his subconscious had been listening to instructions much better than the rest of him had, and he picked up the saltbox with no mishaps, and proffered it to Caden, lid wide open. Like... a mouth. Like teeth!
The ferret giggled again, imagining the box had grown teeth. And as Caden reached his paw in, he couldn't help himself. He slammed the lid down on the marten's paw, grinning hugely.
His grin faded as he realised Horace and the grison Mate had been watching the whole thing. He gulped and opened the lid again.
"Wh...whoops! M'paw slipped... didn't mean..."
Haha! That was great! I am so gonna do it again...
* At least, Spender imagined it said "Hooray!"; in his actual imagination there was just a scribble on the flag in place of words.
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Post by Ladorak on Jul 31, 2010 10:48:17 GMT -5
Caden was going to respond to Carrow's self lowering comment when Spender approached him. Come on Carrow...you haven't screwed anything up yet. How has your performance been any less than mine? He didn't say these things as Spender was right there.
Reaching in, Caden was surprised to see Spender's paw suddenly slam the lid down, clamping his own white furred paw. Caden cried out as pain shot through his paw, yanking it back and waving it to try and clear the stabbing feeling. The jerk ferret was grinning, and Caden just knew he had done that on purpose!
Clenching his fists, anger flashed into the pink eyes of the marten, and he was about to lash out with his weaker but still good left paw, and attempt to sock Spender on the chin in an uppercut when a shout rang out.
"Seajack Spender! What was that!" Caden stayed his paw, knowing it might lead him into trouble if he started a fight here. He didn't want a disciplinary action hanging over him after all...it might lead to strikes against promotion later on. But blast it all! His anger was a boiling cauldron sometimes, courtesy of Helandria and his mother no doubt. He wanted to shove that ferret to the deck, shove him down and pound his face in until it was a bloody pulp!
Taking the cartridge out of the box, Caden roughly shoved it down the mouth of the barrel, his brows furrowed, his breathing having increased as his chest heaved in and out, and his eyes simply blazed. His fangs were bared, teeth gnashing against each other as he fought to keep his anger under control. Reaching a paw out for the wad from Elliot, Caden impatiently awaited the delivery of the knotted ropes from his fellow marten.
"Come here." the Gunner said, dragging Spender by the ear. "Take that saltbox from him and set it back down amidships" the otter instructed his grison Gunner's Mate. The grison took the box, setting it down. The otter looked down into Spender's eyes. "That was no accident lad. A paw simply doesn't jerk down now. If it slipped fine...but I saw it. Caden...what was your take?"
Caden was rubbing his sore paw, shooting a dark glance at Spender. "He slammed it sir...can I..."
"Thank you, that will be all. Now then...what's the meaning of that Spender? Mistreating your fellow crew members is not permissible." the otter withdrew his rattan, a thin wooden cane. "This is the first offense I've caught you in, and I generally don't like meting out discipline, but what you did was in violation of the regulations, and you've got to learn that a breach in discipline can lead to serious consequences for a ship." He roughly spun the ferret around, and whipped the cane down, beating it against the mustelid's rump. He raised it and brought it down again...and again...and again. Finally, after it had slapped against his rump a fifth time (enough to ensure the ferret wouldn't be able to sit for a good fifteen or so minutes, if not more), the otter ceased the caning.
The blows had been rather hard slaps, and would leave the ferret quite sore there for at least a good half hour. Ocean winced as he watched his brother take it in the flank. Stupid stripling...that's what you get though...acting like a bully like that. This was precisely why he wanted to be higher ranked then his brother...would help to keep him in line and avoid things like this. The ermine only closed his eyes and shook his head, listening to the rough slaps until they ended on the fifth one.
Pushing Spender back to the box, the otter shoved the rattan cane back into the slot at his side. "Now get back to your station, suck it up, and don't step out of line again! Maintain discipline son! You can't step out of line like that! Shut up, stand in place and do your job. This was only your first offense, so I won't report it to the officer on the watch, but step out of line again...and more official punishments may follow. It'll also hurt your chances for promotion once you're on the record...and I wouldn't want to see you held back because of something like this. There was no excuse for that! Now do your damn job! Stay quiet until you're needed!"
The grison Gunner's Mate stayed close by to keep an eye on the ferret and also to make sure he didn't act out again. Poor guy...but he had to learn as well. Couldn't simply go around trying to provoke fights. Ocean also kept his eyes on his foster brother, his face remaining impassive for the moment.
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Post by spender on Aug 2, 2010 2:25:00 GMT -5
It wasn't until the third strike that Spender's brain caught up with what was happening at the other end of his body and the tears finally came to his eyes. OwowowowowowowowowowOW!/b] What was that for! That wasn't nearly as bad as getting your claps caught in a box lid! What kind of punishment was that? Whatever happened to "an eye for an eye"? Couldn't they just have slammed his paw in a door if they didn't want him to do it again?
Still, for the duration of the Gunner's rant at him, and his caning, Spender stayed perfectly still, never uttering so much as a squeak.
Oddly enough, he wasn't angry at the otter for hitting him.
It was Caden's fault! It was Caden's stupid face and his stupid pink eyes that made Spender want to slam the lid in the first place. And it wasn't his fault if the marten couldn't pull his paw out fast enough. Really, they should be thanking Spender for giving the stupid white freak of a pine marten what he deserved for... for being ugly and stupid!
Spender's paws edged around to his rump to try to rub the pain away, but touching down there just made it hurt more. He winced and held his paws to his sides. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Peskers had seen! And Ocean. And Caden, and Elliot, and Carrow. Everyone on the deck had seen him paddled. Oh, fates, he'd rather die than just let that go like that.
Revenge! That was what he needed. It wasn't fair. Caden got his claws crushed, and he got his tail tanned so soundly he had to stand up still, after all that running, too! He was tired! What was wrong with a rap on the knuckles? Caden was going to pay for this!
For now, Spender just huddled beside his barrel, crying miserably to himself (and thankfully silently) and plotted...
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 2, 2010 9:11:08 GMT -5
((alright, because I have permission to auto I am taking advantage of it to move this thread along))
Caden felt the wad in his sore paw, shoving it down into the barrel and stepping back to give Carrow room to ram them home. Stupid ferret...acting out like that.
Caden rubbed his paw, looking irately over at Spender. He was still seething inside, and wanted to head over and give the ferret a good thrashing. He'd hit him twice as hard for the throbbing in his paw.
But...if he did that...he'd definitely get in trouble...probably get a caning...or worse. And it might go on his record...striking against him for promotion. He knew they overlooked the first couple infractions...but if you proved problematic repeated times then...your record would look quite bad for promotion.
The only question was could Caden move on from this? He held grudges for a long while, but then too he had a whole two firing processes to get through...should be enough time to just move on...right? He derived some satisfaction at least from seeing the ferret sobbing quietly like that. Good...served him right. He acted out again he'd get it even worse! He'd either learn or be broken...
Caden shook his head to clear these thoughts. Just stay focused...next order was coming up soon...
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Post by Carrow on Aug 2, 2010 10:26:57 GMT -5
Carrow frowned as he witnessed the altercation between Caden and Spender. He had of course known that things were going to be like that - Spender was always going to be the one who provoked, it seemed. Caden knew better than to agitate the ferret, and Carrow, who had to be honest and admit that he liked to see Spender given what he deserved, wouldn't even dream of setting the bully off. He knew from experience that creatures like that didn't take well to taunts.
Then his frown transformed into a slight smile as he saw the ferret hauled up by his ears and swiftly dealt with by Horace. The rodent watched, a look of grim satisfaction stamped upon his bewhiskered features, as the antagonistic mustelid got whipped. One... two... three... four... ooh, five, for good measure! That'd teach him, he thought, turning back to the gun and waiting for normal service to be resumed.
He'd said it before, and no doubt the Dibbun would say it again: for his own good, Spender needed to learn to fall in line and obey orders. Otherwise he'd learn the benefits of obedience in an altogether harsher manner. Carrow didn't think for a second that the ferret wasn't getting what he deserved, but in a way he found himself worrying about his nemesis. He didn't need to do any of this, and that was the problem. Was the momentary satisfaction he got from stepping out of line really worth the punishment?
It did indeed serve him right, but there would come a point where even Spender would have to admit defeat, and Carrow longed for that day to arrive, and sooner rather than later - for Spender's sake, as well for the wellbeing of the rest of the group. He wasn't doing himself any favours with this needlessly rebellious attitude, that was for certain. He'd learn eventually, though - surely he'd have to.
His train of thought was interrupted as his brown eyes focused on Caden's motions. The pine marten had been pawed the wad by Elliot, and now it was though the tension that had been building in the air had dissipated almost immediately. Creatures who had been completely silent while Spender's punishment had been meted out to him began talking softly amongst themselves again as they watched the group go through their routine again.
As soon as his albino companion had shoved the wad down into the barrel, Carrow acted. Taking up his rammer, the young wood mouse inserted it, driving it down the barrel and hearing the soft sound that connection with the wad produced. That was one ram. The mouse felt his nerves finally beginning to fade as he removed the object. Things always seemed to get easier the more a creature did them, and Carrow found himself falling into the practice quite well.
He repeated the process a further three times, the smile that had formed on his face widening further each time he felt the rammer making contact. He increased the force with which he delivered the blow each time, and by the fourth ram he was sure that he had done things correctly. Horace's advice had stayed with him, and he found himself wanting to do just enough to get through, but do it to the best of his ability. Four rams were enough, and soon he had withdrawn the object and placed it on the deck beside him, waiting patiently for the next move.
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