Mara smiled. "She picks a crew who know what to do."
On Full’s transom was a small scuff where a lobster pot had once reminded her that the sea kept its own ledger. Above it, the outboard hummed, an old reliable Johnson that purred like a cat and coughed if fed badly. Mara liked the reliability; she liked the sound that said she could, at any hour, slip quietly from the harbor and be somewhere that had not been measured by sidewalks. eaglercraft 18 8 full
"Why 'Full'?" he asked, and Mara found she could not give the truest answer. "Because she has everything she needs," she said instead. "Because she gathers people." Mara smiled