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Which is a bit rich, coming from a night watchman who’s been dozing in a canvas chair for nearly the whole night.
He snaps out of his slumber, “oh, Lieutenant Slender, it’s you!”
“Shhhh! I’m busy!” she says, waving her hand to shoo him away.
Slender stands amidships wearing just her night clothes and a robe! With the pancake still untouched, she sets the plate down on the top of a wooden barrel. Turning her head slowly, she’s trying to listen, trying to detect any noises which might help her work out which direction the faint signal is coming from.
It’s gone.
It didn’t feel like any crew member that she knows. Though new faces come and go all the time. It definitely wasn’t one of the officers. And even the officers don’t use a tablecloth, let alone a nice white one.
Loud and clear it comes back.
« Oatmeal! Again! »
And then the signal falls silent. Totally silent.
It must have been a crew member. They get oatmeal every day. Sometimes twice a day. Three times a day, if that’s all there is!
Time to get washed and dressed. Maybe her batman will be up by now? Maybe there’ll be some tea? As she returns to her cabin she glances to the shore, admiring the early morning sun, slightly higher in a clear blue sky, sitting above a ramshackle assortment of nondescript dock buildings.
The intermittent sound of some agitated sparrows suggests that they are less than pleased with their breakfasts. Where are those birds? There’s not a single tree in sight!
There is no scent of buds, nor seeds, nor immature flowers!
No longer is there any smell of DeepSigh’s sugary lemon juice. That’s already history.
As Slender reaches the steps down to her cabin, she takes one last look from the deck, trying to work out where the incessant chirping is coming from. The seagulls are all absent.
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