Blackberry never forgot the time he used that floating board on the Enborne. It wasn’t just a clever trick — it was a revelation. The way the water carried the board, the way the currents could be read like a story… it sparked something deep in him. While the others settled into the quiet rhythms of the Down, Blackberry’s mind drifted southward, toward the coast.

He followed Kehaar's directions and the scent of salt water to the bustling docks of Southampton, there he became a fixture among the sailors as he watched them from the docks. He was eventually taken aboard the visiting schooner Bluenose. At first, the crew thought he was just a clever mascot, some long-eared stowaway with a knack for finding dry spots in the hold and predicting storms better than the barometer. But Blackberry had questions. About hull shapes. About wind. About ballast and tide charts. He listened. He learned.

One day, a retired sea captain handed him a dog-eared copy of The Seafarer’s Manual. Blackberry read it cover to cover, twice. He passed the captain’s exam with flying colors—though the examiner did raise an eyebrow at his paw-print signature on the page.

Now he skippers his own vessel: The Lapine Star, a sleek, solar-assisted cargo ship that practically sails itself. Blackberry mostly oversees logistics and snacks. His crew swears he can still out-navigate the autopilot in a fog bank, and rumor has it he once brokered peace between two rival tugboats using nothing but a carrot and a well-timed quote from El-ahrairah.

He returns to the Down once a year, bringing tales of sea monsters, floating cities, and a mysterious island shaped like a rabbit’s ear. The whole warren gathers round, wide-eyed as Blackberry unfurls his maps and says, “It all started with a board on the Enborne…”

A fun triptych of combined Patreon monthlies by artist  Achromatic