Post by Finn Whelan on Mar 9, 2020 6:23:13 GMT
It was not an incredibly long journey around the mainland from Taras to the small island where his hometown lay in wait, but long enough that they would most likely not make port until sunrise at this point as the waning moon lay in wait casting a pale glow along the silent deck of The Wolfsbane. The crew had receded to the bowels of the vessel leaving the Captain alone at the helm, letting the current carry his ship toward the small island yet to be spotted off the horizon from where the Pirate sat, sprawled precariously along the railing, one leg propped up along it and the other hanging over the water that rushed below. Waves crashed against the side of the vessel sending a spray up across Finn's peaceful features, a hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his lips and creating a red-orange glow over his handsome features.
He couldn't sleep.
Not with his past looming so heavily ahead of him, like sailing into the awaiting jaw of the Greek myth, Scylla.
A monstrous sea woman who was known to be the death of many a sailor in ancient tales. He'd tried to catch some sleep, but had woken with a start, sweat still beading his brow as he recalled the dream that had haunted his slumber:
A hunger like none he'd ever felt before, feeling like his gut was being wrenched open.
Twigs snapping beneath the thunderous foot falls of the wolf that rivaled the size of even the largest of men.
Foggy breath coming out in thick waves before his eyes like reflective mirrors, able to discern shapes even in the pitch darkness.
Running footsteps. Small, bare feet stumbling across dirt paths.
They were no match for the monster hot on the trail as a sweet scent like roast boar filled the wolf's nose.
Then chaos.
Screams and blood splattering the trees.
It looked black in the night.
The snapping of bones, not unlike the sound of the twigs he'd run across, breaking in his mouth.
The taste of flesh and blood, but not like he'd ever thought it would taste.
It was sweet and savory at the same time.
Succulent.
He'd enjoyed the flavor.
That part sickened him the most.
Then the sight of her face.
A small, innocent little girl.
Eyes still wide with horror, forever frozen in that expression with a flat and listless color to her gaze.
Her limb strewn somewhere to the side, hand still curled around a stitched rabbit.
"Fuck-"
Finn jolted from his thoughts, grasping a rope overhead as he nearly toppled over the side of the railing. He swung his leg back around and placed his feet to the floor boards, taking a long drag of tobacco.
He needed a drink.
He'd never felt seasick before, but something was churning in his gut every meter more they neared the place he'd once known so well and now felt he didn't belong in at all.
He was pleased for the gentle breeze that ruffled his shirt, trying to ease the sweat that soaked his hair.
How could he be burning up and freezing at the same time?
It didn't make any sense.
Finn was grateful Aurelius was aboard. He wasn't sure how he'd handled the journey even this long if not for the distraction of conversation with his friend, or the entertainment of his Crew Boss, Dalia hounding after that poor lad, Kukinta.
The image of it enough to make him huff a small laugh even in his distressed state.
He couldn't sleep.
Not with his past looming so heavily ahead of him, like sailing into the awaiting jaw of the Greek myth, Scylla.
A monstrous sea woman who was known to be the death of many a sailor in ancient tales. He'd tried to catch some sleep, but had woken with a start, sweat still beading his brow as he recalled the dream that had haunted his slumber:
A hunger like none he'd ever felt before, feeling like his gut was being wrenched open.
Twigs snapping beneath the thunderous foot falls of the wolf that rivaled the size of even the largest of men.
Foggy breath coming out in thick waves before his eyes like reflective mirrors, able to discern shapes even in the pitch darkness.
Running footsteps. Small, bare feet stumbling across dirt paths.
They were no match for the monster hot on the trail as a sweet scent like roast boar filled the wolf's nose.
Then chaos.
Screams and blood splattering the trees.
It looked black in the night.
The snapping of bones, not unlike the sound of the twigs he'd run across, breaking in his mouth.
The taste of flesh and blood, but not like he'd ever thought it would taste.
It was sweet and savory at the same time.
Succulent.
He'd enjoyed the flavor.
That part sickened him the most.
Then the sight of her face.
A small, innocent little girl.
Eyes still wide with horror, forever frozen in that expression with a flat and listless color to her gaze.
Her limb strewn somewhere to the side, hand still curled around a stitched rabbit.
"Fuck-"
Finn jolted from his thoughts, grasping a rope overhead as he nearly toppled over the side of the railing. He swung his leg back around and placed his feet to the floor boards, taking a long drag of tobacco.
He needed a drink.
He'd never felt seasick before, but something was churning in his gut every meter more they neared the place he'd once known so well and now felt he didn't belong in at all.
He was pleased for the gentle breeze that ruffled his shirt, trying to ease the sweat that soaked his hair.
How could he be burning up and freezing at the same time?
It didn't make any sense.
Finn was grateful Aurelius was aboard. He wasn't sure how he'd handled the journey even this long if not for the distraction of conversation with his friend, or the entertainment of his Crew Boss, Dalia hounding after that poor lad, Kukinta.
The image of it enough to make him huff a small laugh even in his distressed state.