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The sea was gray tonight, a mirror of the stormclouds above that covered almost the entire night sky. The Albatross rocked back and forth, a certain triton sitting on the ship's bowsprit. The moon, storm and sea, and their champion, once again met.
The world was quiet as if it were expecting Gillion to say something, like a silent audience anxious for the performance of the person onstage. The Triton just stood there like an empty suit of armor, watching the many shades of gray and blue and green (mostly gray) crash and smirl and dance with eachother. He thought of nothing, he just watched the endless sea with a remorseful peacefulness, one he didn't get often above water. His days in the Oversea were almost always filled with the creak of hinges or groans of wood or the chatter of his crewmembers, loud compared to the Undersea, as it's blanket of water muffled some smaller noises. He'd hate to be seen as an eavesdropper so usually he stored the small details he heard from his crewmates for later. It was an inside joke with nobody but himself that Jay was the eyes of the crew, Gill was the ears, and Chip was the heart. Or sometimes the hands- in all honestly, Gillion was terrible at decision making when it came to everyday activities (he could hear his pulse in his fin-like ears and his tail would curl around his legs and his claws would grab at his arms to the point of almost drawing blood and he would panic, because making the wrong decision could mean death or worse, one of his crewmates getting angry at him). In battle it was much easier: make sure you're taking all the blows and make sure your friends are safe. In a twisted way battles were almost easier to handle, because at least Gillion was used to them.
Here, though, one wrong slip in his slippery slope of thought and Gillion could spiral into dilemmas of many varieties. There wasn't any easy solution to any of them, much to his dismay.
Behind him, a small, repeated tapping of the wood snapped all the sounds Gill had been ignoring back into focus (the waves were crashing, the groans of the wood) and interrupted his thoughts. He turned (unwrapping his tail from the bowsprit in the process, when did he do that?) to see his co-captain Jay being the one making the near-silent racket, clearly trying to get his attention.
"Gill?" She started, in that nervous laugh that was her voice, "You need to sleep."
He nodded slowly, despite his brain screaming at him to talk. Alas, his body was still in brooding mood apparently, and he was left silent for the time being, his head instinctively turning back to the waves foward. Plus, that snap back into reality also reminded him how tired he was. He hadn't eaten all day, nor talked to anybody, just spent his time watching the swirling storm. Today was a 'quiet day,' one of those days where everybody in the crew does pretty much nothing more than exist around eachother, only speaking to ask simple questions like "Do you know where Ollie went" or "Can you catch us some food I don't think Chip actually knows how to fish." Gillion had sensed that this day was a quiet day, in the taste of salt under his tounge and the soft breeze on his face. For a couple hours, unless something happened, he was not just Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of the Undersea, Hero of the Deep, no, he could simply be Gill.
"You've been sitting here all day, and I don't even think you've even eaten," Jay continued, a sorrowful sort of humor occasionally popping up in her tone, "you look exhausted. Heck, just standing next to you is making me tired."
It was true; his tail was a solid weight against the wood beneath him and every movement felt slow and sluggish, as if he had spent the day going through training that left his limbs sore as opposed to, well, sitting all day. He should probably be worried about that, the Champion should be better. Gillion sighed and gave a little smile, "I'm sorry, Jay." He managed to speak out, the breath of air bringing back some life into him Jay returned his smile and shook her head, "Don't apologize, Gill. Just go to bed, okay?" Once more he nodded, although in the back of his mind he dreaded having to move from his spot, even if to reach his barrel. In all honestly, he didn't really want to sleep in the barrel at the moment. Not tonight. He just wanted... well, not even he knew.
"Okay," he answered after another second, giving a little nod.
"Alright, then," Jay replied with a light smile of her own, "Goodnight, Gill."
"Goodnight, Jay."