Northern didn't know which he was more embarrassed by: the fact that he had made a poor sailor pee his pants or the fact the man was peeing his pants helplessly like that.
His lips curled in a barely perceptible smile as he watched the sailor, frozen with fear and incapable of any further movement.
Without wasting another second, he stepped forward and firmly placed a hand on the man's shoulder, gently pushing him aside.
The sailor stumbled away, collapsing to the floor with a dull thud, eyes wide and chest heaving, but Northern paid him no mind.
His fingers wrapped around the ship's wheel, and as soon as his hands touched the worn, wooden surface, a strange calmness swept over him.
The wind howled around them, clouds thickening, but Northern's focus narrowed.
He tugged at the wheel, feeling the ship respond beneath him with a slow groan of resistance.
"Now, let's see how you handle this," he muttered, his voice low, almost to himself.
