
Dovasary "Dove" Hawke
It was not hard to overhear the rest of the crew from bellow deck, where Dove had spent most of her morning making a stew. Most people believed that being a ship's cook was a relatively easy job, and Dove had anticipated that at first as well. She was wrong; she had to keep the ship stocked, cook the meals, catch the rats, clean, look after the well-being of the crew, do odd jobs, sew, keep the food in good condition, the list when on and on.
The old Navy sailor shook her head. Even the manners on this ship were lax at the best of times. But Dove couldn't help but smile about thinking about her time on the ship; it was probably the most fun she'd had in ages. At least this life was a lot better than the life of a sniper on a Navy vessel, for sure. She was pulled from her thoughts by the mention of the name "Davenport" and she instantly sprung up the steps from the ship's hold to the main deck, where the rest of the crew had congregated.
"Ah, very good. That means one of you will have to help me re-stock the ship's supplies. There seems to be a mysterious shortage of rum..." Dove eyed the crew with an amused gaze. She turned to the captain, and clicked her heels together in a brief salute. Force of habit. "Captain, permission to have access to the ship's funds to purchase some needed items?"
--------
~OOC: Sorry, changed Dove's picture from what it is in the description. I can send the new one if needed.~