The waves crashed violently against the sides of the boat, sending sprays of sea foam onto the deck. Everyone ran underboard to keep safe, save the captain and his closest men. The boat was a cargo ship from the Isles, sailing north with fruit and flour for the King in Ishcar. The boat rocked and tumbled, splashing through the waters with a brilliant ferocity to get to the country as fast as possible, despite the storm. The ship had an atmosphere about it - of quick movements, loud sailors, and nautical nonsense.

However, not all on the ship was loud and crude. Tucked away behind the bags of flourr on the lowermost part of the ship was a girl, no more than five years old. She had been sleeping several days at the dank bottom of the boat, knocked out - but breathing. Her blond hair was dull and matted, her face stained from the wooden boat and the dirty floor. Curled next to her was a golden cat, watching her with deep blue eyes.

A sudden jolt sent the girl and cat rolling across the floor, and heavy bags of flower began flying everywhere. One spiralled down fast onto the girl, and the cat hissed with horror. He paced his way up to the pile surrounding her and began trying to lift it, but cats simply don't have the power to lift heavy bags. His ears twitched as he heard voices swarming down to the storage deck. He bounded off to try and catch one's attention.

The men were all crowded around their bunks, drinking and laughing obnoxiously. The golden cat began mewing, trying as loud as he could to meow above their volume and become noticed. Worry for the child was encompassing him. He mewed louder and louder, and finally had had enough when not one sailor looked his way. He strutted into the room, jumped up on a bunk, and spoke.

"I need someone's help. Now," the cat said. The men stared at him like he was insane. A talking cat, of all things! The cat sent them a blue eyed stare that could melt ice. "I said now."

One of the younger sailors stood, dumbstruck but willing. He didn't say anything, but followed the cat to where the girl lay crushed under the bag. "It fell on top of her just now, and I need you to lift it. She's been knocked out for several days now, I just hope this didn't do her in," said the feline with a tone of compassionate worry.

The man nodded. "You're a talking cat," he said as he heaved the bag of flower off the child, then listened to see if her heart was beating.

The cat rolled his eyes. "Well now, let's just state the obvious," he looked up to the man. "Will she be alright?"

The sailor nodded, still staring at the feline. "Yeah, yeah. She'll be fine. We can take her to a doctor when we arrive, he'll know how to wake her up, I suppose."

The cat nodded grimly, then curled up next to the girl, who he could hear breathing - but shakily.

The sailor had one more question. "Why is she on the boat? How come we didn't know about her beforehand?" It was a plausible question - it wasn't everyday you found a child on a boat, alone, with no parents.

"She followed me, and by the time she was trying to get off, you had set sail," he said, slightly perturbed. "Now, go. And we will find a doctor when we reach land."

The sailor hurried out of the storage room and back to his bunks. The talking cat sighed, then looked at the little helpless human. "It's alright. It will all be alright," he cooed, then settled down into a worrisome sleep.