A pounding head and a wince at the bright morning sun accompany Catrina to the deck for the second day in a row. I'm gonna have to stop this... she muses silently. She finds a hard biscuit in her hand and takes a bite. Scourge's whip cracks nearby eliciting another wince and effectively shattering the brief moment of introspection.

..."Ye'll be my runners today, got it? Oh, and I've taken everyone else off it, so ye'll need to pick up the slack some." Catrina nods, with a dull expression. "Aye, sir." Without another word, she follows the man's questionably useful instructions.

Throughout the day, she focuses on the task at hand, nimbly avoiding the numerous perils of traversing an ocean-bound ship. The day plods on, and true to his word, Scourge's assignment proves arduous, indeed. As the sun begins it's inexorable descent, Catrina's legs become steadily more and more leaden. Finally, as the ship's bell tolls for the bloody hour, Catrina slumps on the main deck near the mast. Happily, she's completed her task- but it may be all she can manage to stay up long enough to make dinner....