It was only a few days since she first set out, yet Danielle was already positive she'd never grow accustomed to this. The metal of the cannon was painfully warm from the midday sun against her forehead, a stark contrast to the cool, soothing contact she prayed for. Despite this deficiency, her arms wrapped around the weapon to keep her steady, more of the hot metal pressed against her throat and shoulder as the ship rolled again. And, of more immediate concern, her stomach rolled with it.

By God, surely man was meant to remain on land, if this was the punishment the divine saw fit to inflict upon those which dared venture out to sea. She groaned softly as she clenched her teeth, refusing to give in to the urge to further empty an already vacant stomach into the ocean below.

"I have no more to give to you. I pray, leave me be."