Excuse me, miss?" Someone was standing near my bed. I rolled over and looked at the person who had woken me.

"Have you done the medical assessment yet?" Asked an older woman with a white healer's apron.

"I did it with Ann earlier," I grumbled at her. Had this woman actually woken me up to bother me about the assessment? Some very unflattering thoughts floated on the tip of my tongue.

"Oh, I'm sorry to wake you," she apologized. If she was so sorry she shouldn't be smiling with all those teeth.

"It's fine," I lied. "I need to get up for dinner anyway." Which was the truth even though I'd needed the rest. I moved to sit up and winced at the cramping in my back.

"Are you ok?" The healer with all the teeth asked. If you are concerned, show concern. Don't smile away like Little Miss Sunshine.

"These bunks aren't the most comfortable I've slept on. I just need to walk it off, I think." Was I being too grumpy? Perhaps, but only in my mind so it didn't count.

"That would be the best thing for it." The woman helped me down from my bunk. "There is a common room where people are gathering to chat and have tea. There's also an information resource officer on staff there so if you have any questions feel free to ask him." Smile, smile, smile, and even more teeth. I preferred Ann, at least she had more than one facial expression and it wasn't annoying as hell.

"Thank you." I wasn't feeling very thankful. I tried working the knot out of my lower back by thumping on it with my fist.

"Have a nice day and I hope you have a pleasant trip. I promise the beds at The Island are better." With a cheery wave, she left.

Tea, huh? I liked tea. They would probably have snacks too. Was I hungry enough to engage the masses for snacks and tea? Yes, I'd skipped lunch and it would be another hour before dinner. Let's find this common room.

First, I put on one of my knives. I didn't think I'd need both facing the dangers of a bunch of vacationers enjoying tea and conversation. I didn't want to wear a knife over my burn anyway. I was the antisocial one, most of them were probably well-meaning. Still, even though I wasn't very good with my knives the threat of them was usually enough to scare people off. Don't talk to the crazy lady with the long pointy things strapped to her wrists.

It was odd how that worked. A woman could run around toting a battle ax and as long as she was in some sort of armor she was fine to approach. Guild women were allowed to run around in next to nothing and carry an entire arsenal. A woman dressed normally, wearing everyday clothes, got odd looks and was generally avoided by the masses if she happened to be carting around a battle ax. I didn't have a battle ax, but I did have knives. My anti-people charms.

Before I left I made sure to slather my burns with the aloe gel. Then I rubbed some Seaweed balm into my neck, shoulders, and lower back. The telltale warming sensation began, the strained and cramped muscles began to relax. I couldn't wait until I had full access to those hot springs. It would probably work wonders on my body. Access to hot baths every day, the water actually staying warm, not having to haul the water from the well, it would be more than nice. I just had to endure the uncomfortable bed for one night.

I turned to leave.

"What is that smell?" Asked the blonde with a purple feather in her sun hat.

"God, it stinks!" A red-haired girl with a blue feather exclaimed.

"Did someone leave out a bottle of old lady perfume?" Another blonde with a bright yellow feather waved her hand in front of her face.

Three of the featherheads walked into the cabin. They stood around sniffing the air. I wasn't going to engage them in conversation, so I tried to make my way past them. The smell was me. The Seaweed balm had a distinctive odor, that would dissipate somewhat when I got outside. I had been wanting to leave anyway.

"Is that you?" Blue feather asked as I pushed open the door.

"Certainly is rude to stink up the cabin then leave," huffed purple feather.

"I think it's Seaweed balm," mentioned the yellow feather. She may be snotty, but at least she had a little bit of thinking power.

I left the room to their complaints and went in search of my tea. I'd been treated worse. The smell was something I'd often been teased about as a child. It was nothing new and it would happen again. By this point, you just had to ignore it and let the ignorance flow off you like water on a duck's back.

Outside on the deck, I regretted not putting on my cardigan. The temperature had dropped drastically. The cool breeze coming off the ocean didn't help. I broke out all over in goosebumps. I needed hot tea more than I thought.

I found the common room, and there were at least fifteen people gathered around a table talking, playing cards, and drinking tea. There was only one window in the room and during the day it would probably allow for adequate lighting. It was dusk and the lamps along the walls had been lit to make up for that lack of sunlight. There were bookshelves lining the walls, but there was a very small selection of reading material. A rug on the floor and a large map of The Island were the only real decorations.

I was glad it was warmer in the room than outside. Whether that was due to the number of people generating heat or if there was some heating device at play, I didn't know. It was possible that the warmers near the food played a small part in keeping the room comfortable.

There was a sideboard with offerings that were help-yourself. Hot water, several varieties of tea, warm soup, sandwiches, and an assortment of sweets were laid out for anyone to take.

I poured my hot water and got my tea seeping before I selected my snacks. I wouldn't eat too much since dinner was soon, but I was rather hungry. My stomach gave a loud growl when I got a whiff of the tomato soup they had warming. Nice warm soup, perfect.

I broke down and dished up a small bowl of soup, added some cheese on top from the sandwich tray. Then looked around for a place to sit. Most of the people were seated at the central table, but there were other smaller tables tucked away in the corners of the room. Those were vacant except for the girl that I had seen reading a book in the cabin. She was still reading her book while enjoying her tea.

There was a bit of ruckus as I passed by the table. It nearly startled me into spilling my soup and tea when an older man with a huge mustache and a balding head slammed down his cards in victory. Perhaps my nerves were a bit on edge, but the way the man boasted and went on over winning rubbed me the wrong way. I glanced at the table, they were playing for coppers. We were on a boat headed for a casino, I guess some minor gambling was to be expected. I didn't have to like it though.

I sat in the corner under a lamp and stirred my tea. The color looked good. I took out the leaf caddie and place it on a coaster. Dark drips from the wet tea formed a puddle on the coaster. Taking a sip to test how strong I'd gotten it, I deemed it drinkable.

The soup, on the other hand, smelled better than it tasted, even with the added cheese. It was extremely bland, somehow they'd managed to make soup without flavor. I'd chosen the soup because I'd been cold, but now the soup after leaving the warmer was coagulating and getting clumpy from cooling. I took a few bites, pushed it aside, and eyeballed the sandwich tray.

"The sandwiches aren't much better, try a few of the cookies. At least they are edible." The girl who had been reading was looking at me from over the top of her book. She got up and switched to the seat across from me. Pushing her plate of cookies my way. Then she lifted her book again and ignored me. Well, ok then. Thanks for the cookies, I guess?

I took a cookie off the plate and nibbled on the edge testing the taste first. How on Elrich had they managed to make a sweet cookie bland? Not enough butter or salt maybe? It was edible, and if you dunked them in the tea they had some flavor. It was food and I was hungry enough not to be that picky.

"I'm Maize, with a silent e," the girl with the book said.

"Rille, with a silent e," I told her glancing up. She'd placed her book on the table with a napkin tucked in it as a bookmark. Without the book in her face, I could actually get a look at her.

Her skin was darkly tanned, with a small smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her hair was curly, dry, and black. Her eyes were almond-shaped and dark brown. She'd look exotic if it weren't for the fact that she downplayed all of her nice features.

Her hair had been brushed to an inch of its life leaving it a big and poofy. It's the first thing people saw when they looked at her. After that was her skin, she also had some acne she wasn't taking care of. Her skin, all over dry, was flaking in some spots from some sunburn.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Her clothes were drab too, not that I have much room to talk with my browns and blues. At least my clothes actually fit me. Her clothes were so loose on her she had no figure. I thought I'd looked like I'd been wearing a potato sack. Her dress, I wouldn't have been surprised if it had actually been a potato sack at one point.

It actually looked more like a nightdress than a real dress. If it had been in any shade other than brown I would have suspected it was actually a night dress. Some old people wore dresses like it on occasion. They called them mumus.

She was certainly another odd duck that had been placed in the hen house of featherbrains.

"Do you read?" Maize asked me taking a cookie off the plate.

"When I have time," I answered her.

"I read," she told me.

Well, that was obvious. The only times I'd seen her she'd been face deep in a book.

"I don't like most of the books I read though." She nibbled on the edge of a cookie.

That was odd and unexpected.

"Most people who read find it enjoyable," I told her.

"I suppose so," she said. She sipped her tea. I was going to leave it at that, but curiosity got the best of me.

"If you don't like it, why continue to do it?"

"I used to like it when I was younger. The stories caught my interest. Now, they all seem the same. The same pattern, the same story told over and over. I read hoping to find something new."

"So you keep reading because?"

"When I do find something new, I really enjoy it." She smiled a sad smile. Then picked up her book again. Conversation over, I guess.

The loud man at the central table must have won again because there was another round of obnoxious boasting. A thin man sitting across from him sighed. He said something to the lady wearing mauve and too much jewelry sitting next to him and she twittered a laughed. No one actually laughed like that. It was just something girls did when they were trying to be feminine. Then she reached over and lightly tapped the thin man on the arm. The woman was far too old to be trying to pull off that move.

The man on her other side was red in the face watching the interaction. He was short, round, and had a wig made of horse tail hair on his head. He was a lot older than she was, practically geriatric, but I didn't think he was her father by his reaction. Was he her husband? Another man she'd previously been flirting with? Either way, he was glaring daggers at the thin man overtop the woman's head.

"That is her husband," whispered Maize from behind her book. She must be watching them too.

I lifted my teacup in front of my lips and whispered back.

"Has she been doing that long?"

"That's the third man since I've been here. The first one was getting glares from his own wife and they moved to the other end of the table. Flowered tan dress and man with gray shirt and silver temples." I couldn't see her face but she tilted her book in the direction of the other end of the table.

"For an older man, he is good looking. Distinguished," I whispered into my teacup.

The book dipped at me and her eyes shone with mirth. Then the book popped back up.

"I think the pink princess thought so too. She was really leaning into him trying to give him a peek down her dress. His wife looked like she was going to rip her over-styled hair out of that thing she's wearing. What is that? Do you know?"

The woman in mauve was wearing some odd headpiece. It wasn't a hat, but more like a net with fake pearls woven through and large feathers sticking out the top. How did she keep something that looked so heavy in place?

"I've never seen anything like it, but it sort of looks like a mourning veil worn by widows. If you cut the veil part off and just left the netting pinned in your hair." I whispered over a cookie still holding my tea in the other hand.

"It does sort of look like that, doesn't it? Well, she's all set if her husband happens to die. She just needs to take off the pearls and feathers and she's got a rather short mourning veil." I was given another glimpse of Maize's laughing eyes before the book went back up.

Her husband leaned in to say something to her. She turned around rather suddenly smacking thin man in the face with her feathers. Her cheeks went red from whatever it was he said. Then her lips pursed in...anger...embarrassment? She turned to the thin man and made an excuse. She and her husband both stood and he followed her bobbing feathers out the door.

Gods above, the back of her dress had the biggest bow I'd ever seen. It covered her entire backside. I nearly choked on my tea at the sight of it.

It was fun talking with Maize sharing in a bit of gossip.

Maize was sniggering behind her book. She must have seen the bow too.

"Is that an older style of dress?" I asked trying to be charitable to the lady. Although it looked ridiculous I guess it could have once been as popular as feathers.

"I don't think so. She mentioned something about being unable to sew in this light. I think she makes her own clothes, but that's just a guess."

"If she does, it was a well-made dress execution wise."

"I can agree with that. Without the bow and if you made the neckline higher it would be something you'd see in a shop.

I like it because it's comfortable and people leave me alone."

"What?" How would the pink dress be comfortable? I was confused. Had I missed something?

"My dress. I know it's not something fashionable, but it's comfortable and I can wear pants under it without people asking questions. People leave you alone if you look the part of a lunatic."

"I don't think you look particularly insane, but you do look like you don't care and want to be left alone. I get it." I raised the wrist with the knife. To each their own. She dressed like an old person and I carried knives. Anti-people charms.

"I figured that's what it was for. That's why I talked to you. You don't think like a boy mad airhead."

"You mean the featherbrains in the cabin?"

"Featherbrains, I like that. Yes, that is what I meant." She put the book down on the table and actually looked at me while she talked. I considered it progress.

"Honeyton," she said.

"Is that where you are from?" I was making a guess since it was a small town not too far from my own.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Do you work with the honey or the flowers?" That was pretty much it for work in Honeyton. You either worked in the honey production or you worked with the flowers. There wasn't anything else in the small town.

"Nope," she sipped her tea again. "I hunt."

"That's unexpected," I was honestly surprised. I hadn't taken her in as a hunter at all. I guess since Honeyton didn't have a Guild, hunting was the next best thing. The people in the area would need protection from monsters and there was probably some desire for game animals.

"You?" She asked.

"What do I do?"

She nodded.

"Seasonal work, part-time jobs, but I mostly make soap."

"Soap?"

"Yes, most people use the paste soap in jars. I make soap bars."

"Melt? Bubbles?" She looked interested and her head tilted to the side a tiny bit.

"You get the bar wet and rub and it creates bubbles. It doesn't melt unless you leave it in water for a few days."

"What's it for?"

I assumed she was asking what the bar soap was used for.

"It depends on how I make it. The oil type and the amount of ash added depends on if you use it for laundry or for your body. Animal fats are good for laundry, but they can be expensive if it's not butchering season. Palm oil and coconut oil are good for skin.

"The kind I make with lots of ash is popular on the docks. The bars are compact, last a while, and you don't have to have big buckets of soap paste for your journey. If they get wet during a storm or something, it's not a big deal to just dry them out again. The dockmen are some of my best customers."

She nodded again then turned to stare at the two chairs that had been vacated by the couple. She hadn't picked the book back up. Did she still want to talk?

"Are you here with anyone?" I asked.

"No," she told me.

"So you won the trip?" I thought I was stating the obvious.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm here for work."

"So you're working for the Island?"

"No, I'm a hunter."

This was getting nowhere.

"I don't understand," I told her honestly.

"I hunt," then she shrugged her shoulders. I guess that was it then. She hunted and she had a job on the Island. My guess was that she was going to do some work hunting the monsters on the Island or something like that.

"I'm here with my mother. She won."

"Lucky. All the people going aren't lucky. They bought spots."

"That's news to me. I thought all the people on this trip were the winners of the lottery?"

"No, about a third of the people bought their spots at 200 gold each. Money to blow on gambling. Profit for casino." She shook her shoulders again and fingered her book. Did she want to stop talking? If she did she could put up the book again. She hadn't been shy about doing it before.

"Why do the lottery if there were people willing to pay for spots?" I wondered out loud.

"Don't know. Publicity?"

"That might be it. Get people thinking about the new Island get-a-way."

"Ladies may I remind you that dinner will be served shortly in the dining area." A man came up to our table and gestured towards the door.

The people at the other table were all shuffling around, gathering their things preparing to leave. Another man came into the room with a cart and began to load up the uneaten food. I guess that was our dismissal.

"Thank you," I said and gathered up my plate and cup to leave with the other dirty dishes. Maize did the same tucking her book into her belt so she had both hands free.

We walked together to the dining area. Once again I regretted not bringing a shawl. It got cold outside on the ocean at night.

The dining room was big. Rows of tables lined up end to end with just enough space to fit the chairs in between the rows. The lighting was spaced out so that the atmosphere was rather dim. How were you supposed to negotiate around other people's chairs without proper lighting?

I spotted my mother at the end of one of the tables her walker pushed against the wall. She'd saved a spot for me beside her. Luckily, there was space across from me for Maize, but the space across from my mother had her knitting bag sitting on it. Was she savings another seat?

"Mom, this is Maize. Maize this is my mom, Maple." They both reached over the table to shake hands. They exchanged 'nice to meet yous'.

"I met a man, honey. I hope you don't mind if he joins us." She gave me a wide smile. So that was who the other seat across from my mother was for. More importantly a man? Was she gearing up to have a vacation fling? None of my business, at least if I told myself that I wouldn't feel so cringy inside about the thought of my mother having a fling.

"He's here alone?"

"Yes, he's a widower and never had any children. Unfortunately, his friends couldn't drop their lives on such short notice, so he had to come alone."

"Where'd you meet him?"

"We were playing cards on the observation deck. We got to talking and I think we can be great friends." She placed her hand against her cheek and lightly blushed.

She really was thinking about dating this guy. She'd known him maybe a handful of hours? I wasn't an expert on dating, I'd never dated, but that didn't seem like a long enough time to know somebody. However, she was an adult and could manage her own affairs. I should try to be open-minded.

"How did you two meet?" She asked me and Maize.

"Cookies," Maize said simply.

"We shared a plate of cookies in the tea room," I added.

"There wasn't enough for everyone?" Mom asked.

"I didn't pick the right things. Maize shared. Have you had the food yet? So far I'm not impressed. I didn't think food could be so bland."

"I had a salad at lunch with a sandwich. They were edible," she sighed. "I'm worried about how they are going to feed us these three weeks. I hope the food is just bad because we are on a boat and it's not the standard they've set."

"Ladies and gentlemen please take your seats." A tall thin man wearing all white stood at the front of the room and announced in a loud baritone.