Rarden looked away, cradling his face in his hand as their compatriot appeared bearing alcohol. He was still smirking, though. These were the antics he'd practically grown up around and at this point he was desensitized enough to enjoy the trio's misadventures with a bit of good humor alongside the fear-wrought knots in his stomach that the two were particularly talented at generating. Maybe it was that good humor, or the genuine awe felt standing at the cusp of a new life, but more than worry he felt utter excitement as Louis withdrew the gangplank and took his place at the helm. A feeling he only felt around these two, the realization that for now at least, the results did not matter because the journey was the true reward. Silently, he obeyed the call to sail and raced forward to find and hoist the main's halyard. The preparations for sailing were many, hopefully they'd find it in themselves to coast away from the dock and orient. As, line and knot after line and knot the sails came unfurled and were trimmed to catch the wind, he watched and worked with no small measure of pride.