| The sea was a welcome change for Fred. His nostrils flared as the ocean
spray whipped him in the face, and he was joyous!
Not all the werefolk were as animated as he; poor Alicia, for example, lay across a board vomiting her evening meal. As the island grew more and more distant, the werefolk grew more and more restless. The moon was less than full and late in her nightly rounds, as was proper in the season. Stars shone out in the clear night sky and the cool air caressed the tired bodies of all aboard the ship. The rafts had been lashed with rope to the main core of the ship and though the children lay curled in their mother's laps, the men dangled their legs out into the ocean's watery domain. The night progressed and shifts were pulled by all but Fred who refused to sleep. The wolves seemed the most alert, the foxes a bit too relaxed, while the bears seemed pensive. The lone family of were-weasels bedded themselves below decks and did not participate in either the festivities nor the watch, and it seemed that no one was bothered by that at all. Finally the sun rose from his chilled grave below the ocean's eastern tomb, and all but those who held the latest watch rejoiced in his coming. Loam and his compadres left the dawn for the darkness of a cabin and began their well-earned sleep; the cleric blessed the dawn, blessed the day, blessed the sun and blessed the ship and all therein; Fred took one breath of ocean mist and sang with all his heart: "Sailing, sailing.....sailing the ocean wide, a deck under foot, a barrel
of soot, romancing an ocean bride! Sailing, sailing....sailing the world
about, feed me a lime, wash all the grime, spy a white-whaled spout! Sailing,
sailing.....sailing to god's knoooooooow where, to the heaven's I go, piled
with snooooooow, just because iiiiit's fair!"
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