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On board the Squall-Eater, in a small room where a hammock swings empty in front of him, Caduceus tries his best to get comfortable, and isn't doing too well.
Each time he tries to lay back in his own hammock, it starts swaying. His heart starts racing, and he keeps thinking yep, this is when I'm going to land on my face, but then it will ease to a slower swing, rocking with the ship. The ship isn't actually traveling anywhere, anchored as it is, but Caduceus can't stop feeling like he's adrift.
The empty hammock means that Fjord isn't back from his conversation with Captain Avantika, and Caduceus isn't sure what to make of that just yet, but he's not sure it bodes well.
With a sigh, he holds onto the hammock in a white-knuckled grip, readjusts yet again, and curls up as best he can.
The others are in other bunks, similar to this one, not far away. The tang of sea air permeates the lower decks of the ship. Caduceus takes deep breaths, closing his eyes and telling himself, It's fine. I can breathe. I'm breathing air. I'm not drowning. I'm not underwater. I'm fine.
He opens his eyes and sees the empty hammock again.
Ordinarily, on a day when he hasn't nearly drowned (yet again), it would just be an empty hammock. But the gentle sway of it, coupled with his own rocking, makes Caduceus feel terribly lonely.
He could get up, talk to any of the Nein. Jester seemed to understand his feeling adrift after they'd stolen the Mist and set a course for this island. She could be a good person to talk to.
Or…
Caduceus isn't sure where the thought comes from, or why he suddenly has it, but he remembers one of the "arcane-based copies" of Pumat Sol, smiling at him. Telling him that he brightened up the room.
Pumat Sol (or one of his copies) is a businessman, but even Caduceus knows that the firbolg hadn't needed to tell him that.
It still felt good to hear, even now just offshore from an island where Caduceus is fairly sure that Fjord might or might not have started the first step in releasing a demigod who's bent on destroying the world.
Before he can stop himself, he's murmuring under his breath, touching the symbol to the Wild Mother he wears around his neck, and removing a small piece of copper wire Nott had lent him a day or two ago.
The copper wire burns up between his fingers, and he can feel pressure against his ears releasing just a little as the spell completes.
"Hello, Pumat," Caduceus says before he can think better of it. "It's Caduceus Clay."
He only has twenty-five words. He's just used five. He counts on his fingers before he speaks again.
"I'm sorry for interrupting you. I'm sure you're very busy." Ten words left.
Caduceus pauses, trying to think of how best to communicate what he wants to say in just ten words. That meeting Pumat meant a lot to him. That knowing a firbolg could live in the chaos of a city, away from nature, and still make something lasting and wonderful. That meeting Pumat made him feel like he was on the right track with following these kids across an entire continent.
That Pumat (or some part of him, if that's what arcane copies were) thought that Caduceus brightened up the room.
"Do you really think I brighten up the room?"
The question slips out before Caduceus can think better of it.
Well, shit, he thinks to himself. Nine words gone. He doesn't have enough magical reserves to be able to cast the spell again, so it will have to do.
And, to be fair, he's a bit curious.
A minute later, Caduceus's ears twitch as he hears the reply, even if he knows he's hearing it in his mind and not his ears.
"Caduceus Clay?" Pumat sounds startled. "I-- oh-- dag nabbit-- sorry, I was a little surprised to get your Sending."
Caduceus is suddenly reminded of the numerous times he's watched Jester use Sending. He can't help smiling a little.
There's a long pause in Pumat's reply, and Caduceus is wondering if he's counting the number of words he's used just now.
Caduceus counts on his fingers, too. Pumat's used sixteen words. He has nine left.
"I hope that my copies..." Pumat continues haltingly. Four words left.
"Didn't make you uncomfortable."
With that, the Sending finishes Pumat's reply.
Caduceus's smile grows.
In between words measured to fit a twenty-five word limit and honest surprise, Caduceus could detect faint embarrassment in the other firbolg's tone.
Given what Caduceus remembers of the proprietors of the Invulnerable Vagrant, Pumat Prime was the one who hung back and allowed his copies to keep up the conversation. When it seemed his presence wasn't needed, he retreated to the back of his shop, to keep working on a project. Caduceus had more than one brother who was much the same way when his presence wasn't needed in the graveyard.
If Pumat Prime was anything like his brothers, having his feelings stated so boldly would unsettle him, even if it was by a person who was essentially a different version of himself, who was designed to be more personable to paying customers.
But, instead of refuting what he or his copies had said, the firbolg used his nine words to hope that Caduceus hadn't been made uncomfortable by what was a very nice compliment.
That was nice.
When Fjord sneaks into their cabin a few hours later, smelling of sex and clearly embarrassed about it, Caduceus gives him a long look.
"Sleep well with your bad decisions," he murmurs before laying back, completely unfazed by the rocking of the ship, and drifting off to sleep.