& if you never bleed you're never gonna grow
Flora lifts both hands, summoning the feathered daggers back with a flick of thought. They settle neatly into her waiting palms, blades still faintly steaming from contact with the ursur’s corpse below. With a little twirl of her wrists, she tucks them back into her belt like the whole thing had been practice.
"Deal," she calls back, her voice still bright despite the chill, glancing once toward Jack with a grin that’s more real than she intends. The Sugartide is rising beneath them, evening out, and for just a breath it feels like she might have control again—not just of the ship, but herself.
Crossing the deck with long, sure strides, Flora swaps places with Spice at the helm. The little dragon puffs proudly, her tail giving a triumphant flick before she leaps up to perch on the brass rail behind them, ready to supervise. Hands gripping the wheel, Flora leans into the turn and angles them downward, the sails catching what they can of the air Jack’s given them. Below, a sliver of rock and frozen moss begins to take shape amidst the ice floes—a crooked, jagged little island, but it’ll do.
~FIN
"Deal," she calls back, her voice still bright despite the chill, glancing once toward Jack with a grin that’s more real than she intends. The Sugartide is rising beneath them, evening out, and for just a breath it feels like she might have control again—not just of the ship, but herself.
Crossing the deck with long, sure strides, Flora swaps places with Spice at the helm. The little dragon puffs proudly, her tail giving a triumphant flick before she leaps up to perch on the brass rail behind them, ready to supervise. Hands gripping the wheel, Flora leans into the turn and angles them downward, the sails catching what they can of the air Jack’s given them. Below, a sliver of rock and frozen moss begins to take shape amidst the ice floes—a crooked, jagged little island, but it’ll do.
~FIN
