you look like my next mistake
The low rumble from below made Flora's stomach flutter, though not necessarily from fear. She exhaled through her nose, easing up just slightly on the wheel. "Thanks," she muttered to the shadows, where Thal’s sinuous form coiled beneath the hull like a living compass. The wind tugged at her curls, unravelling them from their knot, but she didn’t dare let go long enough to fix them.
She’d asked Hadama to help her reinforce the rudders and had even practiced with Mateo in broad daylight, but night flying? That was a whole other breed of stupid, especially when the Sugar Tide still had moods of her own. A wrong lean here, a too-sharp tug there, and she swore the ship tilted just out of spite.
Still, the fact that Thal was beneath her, gliding like a dark wraith, watching for cliffs and currents and gods-knew-what, made it easier to breathe. Not safe, exactly, but... steadier. Like she wasn’t doing it completely alone.
"I’m just saying," Flora went on, raising her voice again over the flap of the sails, "if you let me crash out here, I’m going to haunt you. Probably by whispering nautical nonsense in your ear during sex." She twisted the wheel slightly, angling the Sugar Tide between two lower peaks. "Port...ish," she muttered to herself. " Or at least very port-adjacent."
Ahead, the starlit dark deepened—miles of tiny islands and mist sweeping out in every direction. Flora tightened her grip and leaned forward, brow furrowed in concentration. "Can you lead us on, like..an arc of the islands and then back again?"
She’d asked Hadama to help her reinforce the rudders and had even practiced with Mateo in broad daylight, but night flying? That was a whole other breed of stupid, especially when the Sugar Tide still had moods of her own. A wrong lean here, a too-sharp tug there, and she swore the ship tilted just out of spite.
Still, the fact that Thal was beneath her, gliding like a dark wraith, watching for cliffs and currents and gods-knew-what, made it easier to breathe. Not safe, exactly, but... steadier. Like she wasn’t doing it completely alone.
"I’m just saying," Flora went on, raising her voice again over the flap of the sails, "if you let me crash out here, I’m going to haunt you. Probably by whispering nautical nonsense in your ear during sex." She twisted the wheel slightly, angling the Sugar Tide between two lower peaks. "Port...ish," she muttered to herself. " Or at least very port-adjacent."
Ahead, the starlit dark deepened—miles of tiny islands and mist sweeping out in every direction. Flora tightened her grip and leaned forward, brow furrowed in concentration. "Can you lead us on, like..an arc of the islands and then back again?"
