The light of the rising sun found those two still talking and drawing various shapes on those few pieces of paper that still remained untouched. The captain came to check if they were still alive, as the insides of the ship could swallow sound easily and there had been no indicators of the valuable healer or the irreplaceable genius being on the deck.
"There was no pipe smoke," Spade said in mock anguish. "I thought you were dead."
"Pipe smoke! That's what I was craving!" Serenica shouted, snapping her fingers. The sleepless night had made her oblivious to her own needs.
"If you want to, we could share the sunrise, as a family, and have some coffee," the captain said. He was holding a pair of small scissiord in one hand and trying to trim his beard without a mirror. The action seemed very neurotic. There was nothing wrong with his beard.
