crewmate

The sound of waves crashing against the hull echoed through the dimly lit cabin, accompanied by the faint scent of salt and damp wood. You blinked awake, disoriented, your mind foggy as you took in your surroundings. It was a small room, sparsely furnished, with a single porthole letting in a sliver of pale sunlight. You rubbed your eyes and tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through your side.

As you tried to make sense of your surroundings, you noticed a figure in the corner of the room, engrossed in a book. It was a young man with soft black fur and sharp green eyes, oblivious to your awakening. He sat in a chair, his brow furrowed in concentration, completely absorbed in the pages before him.

Suddenly, your movement caught his attention, and he looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to relief.

Finnick: “Oh, thank the stars! You’re awake!” He jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over the chair in his haste. “I’ll go get Clara!” Without waiting for a response, he dashed out of the room, the door swinging wide open behind him.

Moments later, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor, and the door swung open again to reveal a commanding woman with an air of authority. She was flanked by another figure, a tall, muscular wolf with piercing amber eyes. They entered the room together, their presence filling the small space.

Clara: “There ye are! Thought we might’ve lost ye for good.” She crossed her arms, her expression blank. “We found ye in a wreck. The only one we found."

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, trying to recall the events that led you to this moment. Clara leaned closer, her voice steady but kind.

Clara: “Now, I need to ask ye a few questions, just to get to know ye better. What’s yer name? And are ye a threat to us?” She gestured for Finnick to join her at the bedside, while the wolf stood protectively nearby, her arms crossed and watching intently.

You glanced between them, feeling the weight of their scrutiny but also a flicker of warmth in their presence. The adventure of survival had only just begun.

The ship groaned as its hull splintered under the crushing force of the kraken's grip. Tentacles, slick and impossibly large, slithered across the deck, pulling men into the churning sea. You clung to the rail, watching helplessly as crewmates were snatched up and dragged under, their cries fading into the storm’s fury. The ship was falling apart beneath you, pieces of timber breaking off into the water. A massive tentacle wrapped around the mast and ripped it clean from the deck, flinging men into the ocean like they were nothing.

You hit the freezing water, gasping for breath as you surfaced amidst the wreckage. Broken planks and shattered barrels bobbed around you. Others from the ship were desperately clinging to bits of debris, calling out, trying to keep their heads above the waves. But one by one, they were pulled under—dragged down by unseen tentacles below the surface. You kicked your legs, grabbing onto a piece of the hull, your body exhausted from the effort of staying afloat. The kraken’s massive form loomed over the wreck, the sea itself seeming to bend to its will.

Just as you felt your grip weakening, something pierced through the storm. A ship. Small, but swift, with its sails billowing against the wind. You watched as it closed in, a figure standing at the bow, firing into the kraken’s writhing mass. The beast recoiled, tentacles thrashing in pain. The ship came alongside, and suddenly, a strong arm reached down for you.

"Grab on!" the voice cut through the chaos.

You didn’t hesitate. With a heave, you were pulled aboard as easily as if you weighed nothing. The one who saved you stood tall—muscular, her fur drenched from the storm, a thick, slightly rounded belly beneath her open vest. A bull ring glinted in her nose, and her eyes blazed with intensity. In one hand, she held a flintlock pistol, still smoking from her last shot. With her other hand, she hauled you onto the deck without breaking stride.

"Stay low!" she barked, immediately turning back to fire at the kraken, her pistols cracking in the storm as she aimed for the beast’s writhing limbs. She moved with fierce precision, her large form steady even as the ship bucked beneath her.

The last of your crewmates vanished into the deep, swallowed by the relentless sea. Now, the kraken’s full fury was focused on this new ship, and you could feel the tension in the air as the crew rallied to face it head-on. You were the only one they’d managed to pull from the wreck, but now, the battle for survival had only just begun.

Awakening in darkness, you felt the ship rocking beneath you, a steady motion that both comforted and unsettled you. The air was thick with the scent of salt and damp wood, and panic gripped you as you realized you had been hiding in the ship’s hold for days. Just as dread began to settle in, the door to your hiding spot burst open, revealing a towering figure framed against the light.

A muscular she-wolf with striking amber eyes glared down at you. “Found something!” she growled, her voice deep and commanding. With surprising strength, she grasped your arm and dragged you out of the cramped hold. You stumbled behind her up a set of stairs and through the mid deck and up onto the main deck.

Emerging onto the top deck of The Tempest, you were greeted by the sight of the small two-masted vessel slicing through the waves. Raena, the imposing wolf, released you but remained close, her presence intimidating and vigilant.

In front of you stood another figure—Clara, her commanding aura enhanced by flintlock pistols strapped to her sides. With a well-defined physique that exuded confidence, she had a round belly that spoke of a life well-lived at sea. Her fierce expression contrasted with the depth of her sharp gaze, which seemed to pierce through any facade. “Better tell me how ye got here, and what yer doin' here, oh and Wat’s yer name?” she asked, arms crossed.

Nearby, a smaller figure with soft black fur and bright green eyes observed silently, his expression serious.

The weight of their scrutiny settled on you as you considered your response. You had trespassed onto this ship, and it was clear that you were in no position to refuse their questions.