"Said sundown, aye?" Bosede Okeke complained, meandering closer to the edge of the dock to toss the bone and gristle of his turkey wing into the water.
"He did," Zaire confirmed, taking a pull of rum as his eyes went to the sunset, streaking the sky in purple and orange. At least it was a nice evening, no small thanks to himself. "They ain't late yet, mate." He could understand the huge rigger's impatience though. His men had been too long on land and they were eager to feel the swell of the sea under their feet once again, to smell the salt air and hold their families . . .
The Captain's dark eyes swept over the crew. Some were keeping watch for the city guard but most had broken off into small groups of two or three, some talking softing while others further down the dock laughed as Jimmy regaled them all with a bawdy tale of a tavern wench with two different colored eyes. Wasn't the only thing on 'er was two diff'rent colors, if ya get me!
Zaire chuckled at the punchline, shaking his head as he held the rum bottle out to their newest recruit, "Drink up, lad. We may 'ave a long evenin' 'head'uv us."