[pshrynk]

Vera unpacked her trunk for the three days from New Orleans to Havana. She'd had a bit of trouble with the purser trying to get Vivaldi aboard. For some reason, they had no sense of humor when it came to taking dogs from one country to another. Something about vaccinations and papers. She tried to tell them that he was perfectly well paper trained and all she needed was the discards from the lounge to keep him happy. They had refused her entrance.

Finally, she had stormed off in a huff and returned twenty minutes later sans dog. They had asked her where the dog was, and she had informed them that she had eaten him and could she now please get on the ship? They had looked at her funny and then stood back, giving her a wide berth as she stormed up the gangplank. The porter carting her trunk was obvioulsy scared until she informed him that she did not eat humans, just dogs and pursers.

She opened up the drawer at the bottom of her trunk and Vivaldi popped out, looking resentful. He promptly went to the foot of the bed and lifted his leg to let her know just what he thought of being unceremoniously crammed into the lingerie drawer of a steamer trunk, then curled up and went to sleep.

"It's going to be a long trip," she sighed.

She took out her deck of cards and idly dealt a round from both the top and bottom of the deck. Picking up the hands, she noted that she needed to practice a bit more, since none of the hands were at that "maybe a winner, but not sure" level she'd been going for. She wondered what Montsnmags was up to.

He had spent the remainder of the trip down the MIssissippi locked away in his cabin, not even bothering to acknowledge the steward's knock at his door with meals. Strange sounds were often heard to come from the interior. Then, he had emerged the night before getting to new Orleans, fresh as a daisy and talking non-stop. Except for the numerous pauses, of course.

Vera was seriously beginning to wonder about his sanity.