Extreme Assistance [14 Hispis 4385]
Arfaen made breakfast this morning -- smoked fish stew with poached eggs for those who like flesh, which I do. (We should get Arfaen to cook more often. It is, after all, her official job on board.) Kantele was teasing Tingula about ... growing a carapace, I believe.
Ochirion came dashing into the galley. "Oh, no! Oh, no! Windigar says we're going to crash! On an island!"
"Is Windigar in the control room?" I asked him.
"Yes, he's there!" chirped Ochirion. "He told me to come and tell you!"
"It's not an emergency then, or Windigar would have called me. Or done something himself, more likely," I said. He's a better pilot than me.
Ochirion was adamant. "It's an emergency! It's an emergency! The island is swimming at us! We're going to crash! Oh, no!"
"That's pretty unusual, Ochirion. Islands don't generally swim in the sky," I pointed out.
"This one! It's swimming and swimming! Windigar showed me! I saw it swimming and swimming!"
"If Windigar is stopping to show you the sights, I don't think we're in trouble very quickly," I noted, sensibly.
"We're going to crash on a swimming, swimming island!" he insisted.
"I suppose I should check with Windigar," I admitted. "For I truly do not understand what you are trying to tell me, Ochirion."
I let him lead me back to the control room, and opened the door that only Windigar and I are legally allowed to open, and flew in. Windigar and Feralan were looking at the far-viewer.
"Ochirion tells me we're going to crash on a swimming island, Windigar," I said.
"Pretty much right," said Windigar. "I'm not planning to crash exactly though. Take a look."
I took a look. Then I turned to Ochirion and said, "My apologies! You are pretty much right!"