Canna settled into his cabin, still unfazed by the chaotic events that had just unfolded. Just as he was beginning to relax, there was a knock on the door, and Drennard, the captain, entered.
"Once we reach a safer part of the sea, Finnick will begin minor repairs on the ship due to the… excitement of the last fight," Drennard informed him, casting a wary glance over his shoulder. The ship bore the marks of the recent skirmish, but the crew had handled it all admirably.
Canna nodded. "No need to rush. Let the men rest first," he replied, dismissing Drennard with a wave.
The captain nodded gratefully and exited. No sooner had he left than Abaddon's voice emerged from the shadows. "Master, we have three trailing us. Your orders?"
Canna leaned back on his bed, utterly unbothered. "Leave them be."
