Every morning the Captain is awake and on deck before light hits the deck. He stares up at the Crow's Nest and wonders what the point to have anyone up there in this mist. Even the sharpest eye can's see five feet out from the bow. It seems to cling unnaturally to the ship, only to burn off around midday. Frustrated that it seems thicker than normal, he sends the skeleton crew below deck. It must have been quite a good time last night, they aren't worth a damn today. Their late night excess has drained most of their wine, and soon it will be one more gripe that they no longer have any. One more thing to add to their list. They all used to be top notch, why has their skill and obedience slipped so badly? The Captain isn't afraid of this crew. He could easily defend himself against all sixteen. It's probably more accurate to say the crew is afraid of him. It's so true what they say however, he has to sleep sometime. That thought just makes him more angry, almost to the point of snapping. And as usual, when he thinks these thoughts, the Imp arrives. At first he tried to slay the thing, but it's quicker than anything natural. The crew hasn't mentioned the creature, which makes him believe it only visits him. Perhaps it's the Captain that has lost his mind? Maybe the crew is showing their displeasure of following orders from a lunatic? The thought makes Quinn laugh out loud. Finally it shows itself. It always scurries so carefully, always ready to jump back into it's dark places at the smallest movement of the Captain. It sings and chatters in the most pleasing voice. Quinn has become more and more amused with the demon. This time it's humming a weird sort of melody. It's close now, closer than before. Like testing the waters before a swim, it climbs on top of the Captain's boot. It has grown bold. Before he knows it, the little beast has climbed atop his right shoulder. He did not feel it's little claws at all! This abomination has no weight, but for some reason it doesn't bother Quinn. It's smell does. It smells of long dead carrion and salt water. Only when it smiles at him does the Captain lose a bit of nerve. In a whisper, the friendliest voice he has ever heard says "First the island fruit, and now this. It's only a matter of time before they mutiny... Perhaps you should take the reigns on this little situation?". I plan on adding to this painting later, perhaps after I finally get a tablet. Does anybody have any suggestions on what might make this illustration better? I've also been working on ways to make hard lines a little softer.