“A stowaway, aye?”

Octavius grumbled, his heavy accent peeking through his words as he looked down at you. His glare pierced through you as he stood to his full height. The man made his way to you, the heels of his leather boots clunking against the thick wood of the deck as he did so. The sharp sounds came to a halt as he stopped in front of you.

“Oh, what is to become of ye...”

Octavius sighed with mock pity, as he kneeled down to face you, keen gaze lingering over your bindings.