https://docs.google.com/document/d/1711mVB9rCTKRgTn9TjdLxX_noxa0rJe5wWuZGIljxcE/edit?usp=sharing
Wren followed him in silence, a nervous vibe clearly emanating from him. Poor boy.
“Here. You going to peel potatoes for us,” Montreal said, pointing at the full basket of potatoes. “Later you are going to mop the floor. All over the ship.”
“Yes, captain!” Wren replied, a small hint of playfulness. “Is that all?”
Read more on: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1711mVB9rCTKRgTn9TjdLxX_noxa0rJe5wWuZGIljxcE/edit?usp=sharing
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