six sentence Sunday

Another bit from the current Izzy-centric WIP. He's about fifteen here; he's just had a promotion and is about to have a disappointment.

He lay awake most of the night in the unfamiliar company of the only other midshipman, who'd greeted him with a skeptical grunt and, later, eaten boiled eggs for supper without offering Izzy any. He'd quizzed Izzy about his family and made it clear that he was a gentleman's son. "Then why don't you behave like one?" Izzy'd asked, and in the following scuffle he'd come off much the worse, being smaller and younger. Somehow he'd expected that midshipmen might be polite, might be civil, not like filthy-minded, filthy-mouthed foremast jacks, but he'd been wrong.