Alright guys! Sorry about the lack of updates in a little while, life has been nuts, lost my job, got another one and decided to open my own business AND I moved all in a month, I'm exhausted! Hopefully this chapter didn't turn out too bad wrote it pretty hastily. Thanks for bearing with me and enjoy! SEASICK "Why don't I feel good about this Tygra?" - Cheetara (Ramlak Rising) "Tygra?" She hears him before she sees him, retching violently over the side of the ship. The tiger coughs, groans and retches again as the ship rolls forward. Its nearly ten minutes before he finds his feet wobbling a bit, the claws of his feet digging for purchase and only splittering worn rotting planks when the ship rolls back, he settle for seizing the railing. She doubts the tiger has any idea as to what is causing him to be so out of sorts if his frown and vise-like grip upon the ship's railing is any indication. She drops to her knees to dig thoroughly through the large canvas bag without falling over with the frequent pitching of the ship. There, just what he needs. Tygra turns his eyes only when her hand makes contact with his shoulder, he seems to not trust himself to make nothing but the most minuscule movement. His expression is odd, pinched and trying it's best to slacken into relaxation. He's clearly doing his best to conceal his condition from her, unaware she's already witnessed it. "Cheetara," he addresses his voice gruff from its expulsion of sick, "everything okay?" Cheetara lays a gentle hand atop his that is tightly clenched to the ships railing urging his hold to loosen. He looks a bit embarrassed and does his best to carefully straighten and the poor tiger looks as though he's going to be sick again. "Here, this should help." He eyes the strange plant in his hands and gives an obligatory sniff. It's dry and feels like parchment with a sharp but not unpleasant odor. "It's ginger root, to control the nausea," she explains. Ah, so she had seen. Perfect. He looks ready to protest when she adds carefully, "you're balance is compromised with the rolling of the ship. You're mind and your eyes are getting two different signals, telling you you're moving and you're not, it creates an unpleasant confusion that creates symptoms of dizziness and vomiting. They call it seasickness." He's definitely nauseous and it doesn't help that his stomach is quivering with exhaustion at the violent emptying of its only meal in a long while and the first pangs of hunger are joining the hurt. But it's made all the more horrible that Cheetara is a witness to his humiliation and she doesn't seem to be moving along anytime soon. If anything she's come closer, not at all put off by his retching. He thinks to say something to her, anything, but all he can really focus on is trying to tamper down the need to vomit again and he doesn't trust his stomach and mouth not to betray him in an attempt to recover some of his dignity, he's pretty sure he'd have not a scrap of pride left should he get sick all over her. Cheetara's smile just barely turns the corners of her pink mouth, a look encouragement. Or maybe amusement, he wonders. Despite the latter fear he manages to speak after swallowing hard. "Guess I'm just lucky enough to be the only one not immune to this seasick thing." Cheetara shrugs not the least bit affected by his gloomy tone pressing now a water skin to his mouth, he gratefully swallows. "They say its more likely to affect more dexterous cats like you, those top knotch senses make the signals your mind is getting more apparent, that stealth of yours both a blessing and a curse." He narrows his eyes at her in a look of skepticism unsure if he completely believes her statement full of easy praise and compliment, he decides she is sincere and it helps rebuild the last bit of his broken dignity. "Is that what they say?" His eyes look nearly bright orange in the sun with a deepening darkness within his slitted pupils, she finds them more striking than usual in full sunlight as she can really see them now. She gestures to the forgotten ginger root palmed in his fist, he hadn't even noticed he was squeezing it. "Small bites are best." He does as she says and takes a small bite chewing carefully. It's almost spicy but sweet like a citrus fruit, strange but not unpleasant. He forces his tight throat to swallow before doing the same a few more times. She's still standing there, shoulder to shoulder with him as she looks out into the setting sun resting her arms on the ship's railing. Perhaps she thinks it necessary to keep him company and mother him, he thinks to thank her and tell her she doesn't have to babysit him. He's sure, while thoughtful, to think nothing of her attentions; she obviously has a strong mothering instinct that's all. She's been spending a lot of time with the kits and of course Lion-O offering quiet words of wisdom and small gestures of comfort. She would one day be an incredible mother if she ever had the desire. "Better?" she asks. Tygra nods. "Well I definitely don't feel sick anymore." She looks pleased; she guides him forward with a gentle pull of his hand. "Come on." Hesitantly he releases the railing fully to follow her. He nearly runs into her at her sudden stop probably due to concentrating too hard on walking straight, while the nauseous is gone his mind is still rolling with the ship, dizzy. They are at the back of the vessel where a few of the crew members are hoisting a few crates and canvases paying the two cats no mind for the moment. She's suddenly behind him and guiding him forward to the railing, the sun is low, painting the sky a deep orange color, there's a hand on his side and another at the top of his shoulder. "There. Look out at the horizon, focus. Concentrate on it." He thinks to ask why but the answer is clear as his feet feel surer and his mind clearer. "Dizzy or nauseous anymore?" she questions. He wonders if he's imagined her voice sudden becomes soft and throaty as her paws have found their way to rest on his lower abdomen to soothe away the last of its trembles and he's a little dizzy for an entirely different reason as he stares down in disbelief of his incredulous good fortune. His dark eyes get wide, with an expression much like a rabbit caught in a snare. "No, definitely not." He wants to kick himself at the pathetic little mewl his voice jump to at the rare treat of physical contact that's intimate and probably accidental. Tygra has no idea how she unravels him so easily when he's never had a problem before with knowing what to do when an attractive she-cat is giving him attention. Cheetara takes note of his sudden stiffness and the odd pitch in his voice and she's immediately sorry to have forgotten herself and having unconsciously invaded the prince's space. She misses the confusion and disappointment in his eyes having retracted her hands smoothly in an instant needing to correct her mistake of violation. "Glad to help." And just like that she's walking away, more like fleeing before coming round to the helm where Lion-O stands and she's speaking with him, or trying to, those big claret-colored eyes alight with worry and protectiveness, his brother does not notice, the ship's pitching and rolling not even enough to faze Tygra's confusion. It is only when the sky blackens with the signal of a storm he joins them. :DLet me know what you all think and thank you for reading!