"Sheba." His voice was unusually still as he spoke, not unlike the calm that rested upon the sea before a storm. He approached from behind Sheba, looming over the two of them simply by the nature of his towering height. There was no anger in his tone. Just a quiet firmness.

"Calm down. The both of you. Losing your head so early could mean trouble for us later."

He patted Sheba on the shoulder, understanding her concerns entirely, and shook his head as he regarded the redhead.

"I'm sorry, Luke. Breakfast will have to wait for a while unless you don't mind working while you eat."

That meant getting the same hands you're using to eat your bread dirty by tieing down the sails, or holding it in your mouth and potentially losing it to the sea.

It was entirely your choice.