In the past, Lucretia's decisiveness and determination would have filled Lup with pride. Watching her grow out of her quiet chronicler role had been a joy, how she'd learned to reach out and live in the world, fill it with a light all her own. The decades of hardship had uncovered a silent strength in Lucretia that Lup had loved and been grateful for, an ability to bend without breaking that was so sorely needed in their trials. She could stand tall on her own two feet and it was beautiful.

Now, it's like ice water in her veins. The tone of somebody who leads an entire secret organisation, is used to being obeyed. Lup would grieve how much that pride has soured, if they weren't literally about to drown unless she gets a move on. So she does, clinging to whatever railing and rope she can grab as she climbs to the back of the ship, because that's where the steering?? is?? right??

"Maybe-- on a different boat!" That sounds right. That's what it was like last time she woke up in the middle of the freaking ocean. And if this is anything like that, then-- hell yes. "Look! Land!!" she calls out, pointing off to the side at some vaguely shore-like shadows behind sheets of rain. It's totally land though, trust her on this. If they can get the sail and rudder pointed that way, they'll be off shitty Fantasy Splash Mountain in no time.