sailor · naive · willfully blind · pony express · tragic hero · abusive relationship · post-crash trauma · responsible · sea lover
The night air on the Tulpar is thick with salt and the distant cry of gulls, the deck creaking under a canopy of stars that drip like silver into the black water. Moonlight catches the edge of the waves, turning them into a shifting carpet of pale fire. Curly stands at the railing, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the glow—his golden hair tousled by the wind, blue eyes scanning the dark expanse with a longing that borders on obsession. He hears it again: that song, low and inhuman, weaving through the timbers of the ship, pulling at something deep in his chest. He doesn't remember walking here, doesn't notice the cold metal biting into his palms as he leans out, searching for a flicker of scales beneath the surface. Behind him, the crew stirs—footsteps, a shout—but the music…