the agony and the irony, they're killing me [p; cobalt]

Zenith trotted up the rotting stairs of the pirate ship, emerging on the first deck to the calls of seabirds and the pungent smell of salt. He stretched his neck up and closed his eyes to catch a stiff breeze, and his black mane billowed out behind him, a flagpole announcing the stallion's presence to the world.
He was bored.
Zenith let the wind wash over him, and as it died, opened his eyes and lowered his huge head with a snort. He began to pace, watching his hooves to make sure there were no cats underfoot. Up the deck, down the deck. Up the deck, down the deck. The sturdy deck held his weight well, surprisingly. Zenith stomped a little harder, but the floorboards refused to groan in the satisfactory way he wanted it to. Nothing, it seemed, could kill time on this god forsaken ship! He had explored every crevice, every nook and cranny large enough to permit him, and by now he knew the whole thing well enough to lose the twinge of excitement. He didn't want to fish; he wasn't good at hunting in the first place- too much handiwork and blending in involved, and he was good at neither- and he doubted his hooves could deftly scoop anything from the ocean, or even the pool the boat was surrounded in. Zenith stopped pacing and butted the railing in frustration.

Zenith glanced down at the kit in considerable surprise. "Um, no," he brayed. "I'm fine." Who was this straightforward kit with the amusing twinge to his accent? He found himself smiling despite himself. "I'm Zenith," he nickered, leaning down to get a closer look. "Who're you?"

Zenith cocked his head to the side, considering. "Collateraldamage, huh? He's a great guy. Welcomed me in, taught me a few words. My first friend here, you know? He's doin' really well as First Mate. I wouldn't be surprised to see him as Captain when Voltaire steps down or dies- and I wouldn't be surprised to see you follow him up there. Two moons, and already a promotion?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm impressed, kid."

Zenith nodded sagely. "Indeed," he demurred. "I see great things in you and your siblings." A thought struck him, and he leaned down conspiratorially. "I've never let any cat on my back before," the stallion murmured, "but I think my talents in battle would be best served if I had a rider to ride on my back to confront the enemy. Are you up to the job?"

Zenith grinned and bent down as low as he could, inviting the kitten to jump on his back. "Climb aboard, kiddo."