Jonas asked, walking into the cabin that he and Twist shared. Sitting against the headboard of one of the two beds in the small room, his legs crossed on the soft, thick bed covers, Twist rolled his new cane around in his fingers. “A present from our dear captain,” Twist said, not looking up. The silver on it gleamed brightly even in the amber dim of the one oil lamp on the small table between the two beds. Moonlight spilled cold and white through the two square windows in the outer wall onto the pale wood of the walls and floor. “Ah, you got a present too,” Jonas said with a knowing tone to his voice. “He gave me these when I joined the crew,” he said, tapping the black lenses that sat snugly on his brow. “I was using a pair that I'd painted black, but the paint kept chipping. Very unreliable. These are much better.” Twist nodded thoughtfully. Jonas paused, watching him continue to roll the cane slowly across his knees. Twist felt the weight of his gaze run like warm water down his back.
