Teddy feels a little like they should be helping more -- with the singing, or the hunting, or at least the rowing, but it's not terribly hard to see that Achilles is much stronger and thus moving the little boat faster than Teddy can.
It's not the sort of sea shanty that Teddy's used to; those are simple call-and-response songs meant to keep the beat for rowers or those with ropes. It is fascinating, though, keeping his mind off of the danger and on the melody, catching some repeated lines to come in on harmony.
Then the leviathan rises, Nanaue wrapped in a tentacle. Teddy barely has time to shout for him, though he looks perfectly content gnawing his way out, inky blood darkening the water as his teeth shred the tentacle. "We need to come alongside," she says, thinking fast -- if they keep going straight into it, it's going to just grab at them next, and much as he seems in his element, she's not about to watch this thing with too many teeth devour her friend.
Without considering their own safety -- if they wait too long, the thing's going to come up underneath them anyway -- they rise to grab for the ropes on the dinghy's single sail, currently secured as oars are a better means to get straight out from the beach. "You've got a spear, harpoon, something you can throw?" they call, clinging to the rope and swinging dangerously close to the side as they tie it off. The wind from the storm's perpendicular to them, which should keep them sort of staying still if they can keep it like that. "Switch with me."
Teddy ducks under the beam, grabbing onto Achilles' shoulder for balance. "I can keep us level, if you can aim from here. Otherwise I've just got a big fucking knife in the front, and we're gonna have to get closer for that. We can't let Nanaue do this by himself."
Even as she says it she's trying to think of a new song. It doesn't even have to be one that makes sense, just something, if she can keep them all on the same page and emboldened.
cw: uh, squid hunting
It's not the sort of sea shanty that Teddy's used to; those are simple call-and-response songs meant to keep the beat for rowers or those with ropes. It is fascinating, though, keeping his mind off of the danger and on the melody, catching some repeated lines to come in on harmony.
Then the leviathan rises, Nanaue wrapped in a tentacle. Teddy barely has time to shout for him, though he looks perfectly content gnawing his way out, inky blood darkening the water as his teeth shred the tentacle. "We need to come alongside," she says, thinking fast -- if they keep going straight into it, it's going to just grab at them next, and much as he seems in his element, she's not about to watch this thing with too many teeth devour her friend.
Without considering their own safety -- if they wait too long, the thing's going to come up underneath them anyway -- they rise to grab for the ropes on the dinghy's single sail, currently secured as oars are a better means to get straight out from the beach. "You've got a spear, harpoon, something you can throw?" they call, clinging to the rope and swinging dangerously close to the side as they tie it off. The wind from the storm's perpendicular to them, which should keep them sort of staying still if they can keep it like that. "Switch with me."
Teddy ducks under the beam, grabbing onto Achilles' shoulder for balance. "I can keep us level, if you can aim from here. Otherwise I've just got a big fucking knife in the front, and we're gonna have to get closer for that. We can't let Nanaue do this by himself."
Even as she says it she's trying to think of a new song. It doesn't even have to be one that makes sense, just something, if she can keep them all on the same page and emboldened.