The glass doesn't sit for long before Edward is swiping it up to drink it. He'd have foregone the glass altogether, there was certainly no one aboard to pretend to be proper for.

"He'll learn to." he mutters into his glass. Frenchie managed to stitch up the flag to Ed's liking, which was good enough. And he seemed to fear them enough to not talk back, to do as he's told and do it quickly.

"Right. West, then." he sighs, the expedition not nearly as exciting to him as it might have once been. There's a moment of silence as he drinks more of the rum, contemplating.

"Can I ask you something?" he starts, not waiting for an answer to continue, "What do you want out of all of this?" Because this can't just be it. There has to be more to life than sailing back and forth and feeding people their toes.