Greenbriar
Exile
London, the United Kingdom
8th November 1862
Morwenna Stone slammed out of the lawyer's office, her back straight and her grey eyes blazing. How dare he. How dare he? She'd flown aboard Wyvern since she was five, and if at first she'd been more trouble than help to her father he'd never made her feel like a burden and by the time she was twelve she was serving as a member of his crew. After dropping off Laughing Sammy in New England he hadn't chosen to take on another temporary hand, instead promoting her to First Mate. The next few years were paradise as father and daughter criss-crossed the skies of Europa, trading with people in a dozen different tongues, and though she was shaken by his sudden wilting sickness and still grieving his recent death, she was every bit the airman she was a month ago. And that... prancing jackanapes had the hide to talk about sale price and dowries! It was all about airman of course. In his eyes, in society's eyes Father's death meant that she should stop all this play acting and settle down to get married. He couched it in concern for her well being - a woman alone and in peril - but the long and the short of it was that he wouldn't release Wyvern's deed and allow her to set sail without a crewman. And she had to leave London sky docks within the next two days at latest if she was to make her charter at Strasbourg. Add the fines for breach of contract to her existing debts, and she could have Wyvern claimed from under her; her career as Captain over before it began!
"I fear I'd make a very poor wife and mother," she murmured to herself with her first humor that day. It might be gallows humor, but it would suffice. She'd always meant to get a crewmate of her own, a second pair of hands to watch her back and help her in the air. Well, there was nothing for it - she would just have to find the right person here in London. In 2 days. Without their minding that payment would have to wait until they'd delivered their first cargo.
How hard could it be?
With renewed determination, the young redhead set out for the sky docks as though she could wrest her destiny into line.
@folclor
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