The hunter waited and waited, until the clouds parted, until the wind bit. He sat on the dock edge feet near touching the waves as he stared at the horizon. He was just able to see a ghostly outline of the city they needed to reach. Every now and then the waters grew like a wave. The sea monsters were irritated. They could sense something was wrong. He chewed his tongue, feeling his rage bubble up once more. Soon, he told himself. Very soon. He shook his head in blistering irritation. Across the water, how simply put, he thought, how terribly simply stated.
‘Tha-Ch!’ He heard a little voice cry. Altered, his head snapped down see a tiny thing with a bag being bobbed around the calm ripples like mighty waves. His anger suddenly dissolved and flung off his hood. Jumping to his feet he took out his bow to fire a roped arrow for me to grab, but suddenly with the lift of a wave the water swallowed her!
Abandoning the plan he dropped his bag and cloak and dived into the icy waves! He kicked quickly toward me and scooped the two up, hand above his head and he swam back to the dock.
He placed me gently onto his cloak before heaving himself back up, a lake of water expanded out of him compared to my tiny water drips. ‘Are you okay?’ He asked as I spluttered and coughed up sea water, shivering and as feeling as weak as frayed string. My brow furrowed at the stupidity of the question, I clearly was not okay. But then relinquished the annoyance, there were bigger fish to fry.
As I gasped for air the only word I could voice was: “trade!” before pointing to my floatation device. He picked up the bag with envious ease and looked inside causing a slight smirk. It now made sense why the cargo hold was so out of bounds for strangers. The precious powder was a drug worth gold by the gram. It would be more than enough to pay for boarding. Especially since the captain would never know it was his, and the one who stole it would never be able to say so or it would reveal his own treachery.
Thea, lying down in the bag for a much deserved rest watched out of the gap as the hunter, face covered and hood up, approached the pirate in the pub. I could only able to see a portion of the gruff mans’ face, of the captains blue eyes and shaggy hair.
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They stepped out into the still chilled night air and the hunter offered the small bag. A grin of sudden hospitality came across the pirate’s alcohol-reddened face.
The sails unraveled! Massive horizontal sheets which rimmed the ships sides expanded outward, painted to mimic fish scales so the ship looked even bigger, causing monsters to flee.
Keeping his bow and arrow close he sat in a storage room not much bigger than a wardrobe. He was a stranger and that meant he was dangerous and so wasn’t allowed near the crew or cargo.
The waves bobbing beneath them as they sailed but they didn’t offer him the soothing feeling it did the fairy.
With his back against the wall he faced the door, glaring at the handle. The crew was a danger to him, and all the more if they believed him to be carrying more drugs than just what he offered. This truth meant he couldn’t rest tonight.
I rested on a shelf nearly eyelevel to him. ‘Your face is weird!’ He giggled, eyes diluted and cheeks flushed. ‘What’s wrong with you?!’
He smiled with a raised eyebrow. ‘How long were you holding that bag, Thea-Thorn?’
‘Looooooook!’ I moved my hand around with fixated wonder. I stumbled off the edge and he caught her.
‘Come on.’ He moved some cans away to make room for me on the second storage shelf so I was a little higher than him. He then cut a new square of his cloak and undershirt before washing it with drinking water.
‘You did well today.’ He squeezed out the liquid and blew them dry. The cloak square was a mattress, the shirt a blanket. I dived into the bed with a loud yawn. My words slurred out as ‘wy re… you gon tew ‘ity?’ while exhaustion became me and fell asleep like a candle extinguished.
He pulled the blanket square up, trying his best to tuck me in while thinking of the next day and how he couldn’t stop the sun from rising or the waves from crashing. He couldn’t block the rising dread… He flung his hood back up and looked back to the door, bow and arrow on his lap.