The rowboat rocked gently—if "gently" meant just shy of capsizing every three strokes. The oars dipped and swirled in the water, though exactly how they were being operated remained a mystery best left unsolved. Vox was at the helm, or at least helming-adjacent, paddling with a mix of precision and whimsy that suggested he was obeying several different laws of physics at once, none of which belonged to this world.
The ocean churned violently around them, a chaotic symphony of waves that seemed wholly uninterested in their survival, but Vox appeared delighted. "Isn’t this lovely?" he mused, teeth flashing far too bright against the storm-lit sky. "The sea air in your lungs, the thrill of impending doom, the distinct possibility of being devoured by something that doesn’t technically exist yet? Romantic."
His many-eyed attention flicked toward Noe, studying her with the same curiosity one might afford a pocket watch they were only pretending to know how to use. "By the way, does it ever get confusing? Your name, I mean. Noe. Like no. As in, No, Vox, I am super excited to go to an island teeming with cosmic anomalies."
He let the thought hang for a moment, then grinned wider. "But clearly, you are not the No sort!" His paddle—tentacle? Spindle? Elongated fingernail?—sliced into the waves once more, propelling them ever closer to the jagged violet shores of Starfall. The island loomed ahead, humming with an energy that made the very air feel like it was crawling like it was watching. The porous, alien rock gleamed wetly beneath the storm-wracked sky, a landscape both entirely foreign and intoxicatingly inviting.
The ocean churned violently around them, a chaotic symphony of waves that seemed wholly uninterested in their survival, but Vox appeared delighted. "Isn’t this lovely?" he mused, teeth flashing far too bright against the storm-lit sky. "The sea air in your lungs, the thrill of impending doom, the distinct possibility of being devoured by something that doesn’t technically exist yet? Romantic."
His many-eyed attention flicked toward Noe, studying her with the same curiosity one might afford a pocket watch they were only pretending to know how to use. "By the way, does it ever get confusing? Your name, I mean. Noe. Like no. As in, No, Vox, I am super excited to go to an island teeming with cosmic anomalies."
He let the thought hang for a moment, then grinned wider. "But clearly, you are not the No sort!" His paddle—tentacle? Spindle? Elongated fingernail?—sliced into the waves once more, propelling them ever closer to the jagged violet shores of Starfall. The island loomed ahead, humming with an energy that made the very air feel like it was crawling like it was watching. The porous, alien rock gleamed wetly beneath the storm-wracked sky, a landscape both entirely foreign and intoxicatingly inviting.
vox
