Utterly Mad

[[Hella long roadtrip through the deepest of souths has left me without internet for a while.]]

Allan dusts his hands, shaking off a fine spray of fungiwood spores. He coughs a little when he inhales the cloud, and through the fit he mutters "E-uh-guh, ah can't stand luggin' these damn boxes around." He gets behind another one of the cargo carts, and starts pulling it onto the ship. "Gonna cough a lung up, haulin' carga' like this."

As he does so, he looks out in the direction the captain pointed. The blackness of the sea looks back at him. He quiets down, and pulls the cart in silence.