Pritchard would look around as he straightend himself up, oh the irony. His eyes shifted to the members of the crew on board yet it would seem Anton nor Cecila had seen his movement, alas though, it was James whom was staring at him, the loud mouth member of the crew. The way he spoke had Pritchard on end, the long pauses between That and was, and then....the word awesome escaped his lips, did Pritchard hear him right, as he trained he had been made fun of for his fighting style, regardless of the fact he had incredibly powerful legs, yet the fact that it revolved mostly around ballet. [The ookama style revolved solely around this style, yet Pritchard was slowly focusing on building his own customizations around it, right now he only knew the basics of the techniques but alas that was all he needed for now.]

"Uhm,, thanks" Pritchard would say, his feet shuffled and his hands soon flew upwards to meet each other, twiddling his fingers as he looked completely out of place, his cheeks flustered, it was only when Anton beganto help the wounded did Pritchard remember were they were, he too soon moved to help, moving them below deck. At this point his mind remained on James, perhaps this little ookama was developing a bit of a crush, typical it had to be upon the straight boys right, of course nothing could be easy for the shunned ookama. He had actually purposly refrained from talking about his training, his actual style. It was not a story he wished to share, not to people who were still strangers to him, especially since he himself had yet to fully accept it. .