Art takes another sip, then casts the flask a mournful glance. "Empty already. It'll be weeks before we head back south..."

Another voice calls down from above, the speaker lost from view amidst mist and canvas. "'Twouldn't run out so fast if ye weren't drinking on duty, Artemis."

"We've an easy crossing and no weather in sight, what more do you want?" With a sigh, Art rises to her feet. "Still, he's got a point. I ought to make sure everything's going well. Make the best of the day, aye?"