A lull in the festivities provides a prime opportunity to hire a fishing boat and enjoy a bit of quiet. Sara rows out into the darkness away from the other anglers, Caldyr rejoining her at the prow of the little vessel. They settle into a promising location, Caldyr briefly surveying the area for hazards while Sara prepares the bait.
"Care for a sandwich?" Sara asks the raven upon his return. She practically sings a continuation. "I made your favourite."
"Hush. We’re fishing," he quietly retorts. A moment’s pause, then an even softer reply. "But yes."
The pair fall to silence as they await a bite, Sara glancing at a pocketwatch periodically to ensure they won’t get caught in the currents. After a time her mind wanders into memories of a zee-voyage years past, at the end point of that experimental trip acting as captain of a submarine.
"What exactly are we supposed to tell the crew, when they come out of that tavern and see we’re nowhere to be found?" The Twinkle-Eyed Lobsterman waves the pair off, amused, and pockets an echo’s worth of rostygold, the supposed fare for an out-of-season rental. Sara rows into the night with agitated purpose.
"Hush. We’re fishing."
She rolls her eyes, eying a small rip in her sleeve conspicuously. "Can’t believe you put a hole in my sleeve over this."
The raven looks down apologetically. "My apologies."
"Not accepted. Remember how much this cost?" Sara whines. Caldyr opens his beak and Sara cuts him off, "Yes, yes, we’re fishing. I got that. Thanks."
A short while spent in irritable silence was broken by something finally taking the bait. Sara reels it in with all her strength, Caldyr offering helpful tips, until the catch tires itself out enough to pull out of the water. Cheers are abruptly cut off by the actual sight of the thing. The two regard its visage in stunned confusion, its organic folds and curious protrusions denying any clear identification. It thrashes angrily in the air, upset lending it a second wind, though its efforts ultimately futile.
"Wh…what is that?"
"It…appears to be an organ that emancipated itself from the rest of the body."
"Ah. That makes sense."
The crew draw straws outside the tavern; the unfortunate bearer of the short straw swears under his breath before taking the bizarre organism from his captain. "I need you to zail to this location," Sara points out a location on her sea chart, close enough to serve as a lure but far off enough to buy enough time to investigate. "Toss it in and turn out the lights. Make your way back to port without attracting its attention."
A soft sigh beckons to Sara and two remaining crew members, carrying a bucket each. "You sure that’s a Harlot?" one of the crew ask, squinting at the green-gowned woman in the distance. Caldyr stares at him, appalled by his language. The zailor doesn’t notice. "Looks like a normal lady, t’ me."
"Well, if it takes the bait we will know. Y’know?"
Sara ignores the two as they continue to debate, suppressing an irrational sense of dread as she gazes upon the supposed siren. Cold eyes pierce hers even from across this distance. Can it see? How much does it know? Suddenly the woman slumps over, dragged into the depths by an unseen force. One of the crew members becomes five echoes richer, the other five echoes poorer. Together they gather up zee-eggs from the rocks while the submarine pulls its way back into the harbour. "Far more than the cost of a shirt, yes?" Caldyr remarks playfully, perched upon Sara’s outstretched arm.
"I…I wasn’t really upset." she answers in a regretful tone. "Maybe a bit irritated, but I didn’t hold it against you. Not for anything so minor as that."
Caldyr nudges her affectionately, glad for the apology. "I know."
The line abruptly tugs, drawing Sara out of her distant memories. Caldyr perks up, peering over the side as she reels the catch in. After a small battle something like a starfish is dragged out of the zee, weakly protesting. Sara frowns at it in jest. "Not nearly as pretty as the thing with the rainbow fins I caught last year."
Caldyr looks around, studying the area. "I think you caught that one over…in that direction. Not enough time left to try for it today."
"Alas. Well, back to the excitement." Sara carefully stows her new prize away and makes her way back to the festival at large, increasingly eager to stretch her legs after such an extended time spent seated. Perhaps a bit of dancing is in order.
edited by Sara Hysaro on 8/29/2017
