Closed Rescue Me? Pfft...Hardly!

[Rheyine Stormchaser]

90th Day of Fall It was quiet, that’s what she loved down here. Not silent, never silent, but quiet. Serene. Muted sounds of waves crashing overhead traveled down to her ears, combined with distant echoes of whales singing their songs to each other. Even the light itself was quieter, diluted by the tons of clear seawater as Syna’s rays beamed down. Fish of every color and shape darted in and around water eroded rocks and bright vibrant coral. Kelp lazily wafted in the current, and between the thick green curtains, seals swam and played. A lone sand shark drifted easily overhead, unconcerned with feeding for now, but always on the peripheral of all creatures vision. Just in case. Rheyine pried another abalone free of its rocky home, her fishing net turned into a makeshift bag as she placed the mollusk into it. Her blonde hair, caught in the gentle current, spread out around her head like it was caught in the wind in slow motion. To keep herself from floating up, the young svefra had tucked her feet under the ridge of a rock, every now and then a highly disgruntled Gobi would nibble at her toes wedged so close to his home. Smiling to herself, Rheyine relinquished her feet, satisfied with her haul of various mollusks. She swam to the surface in powerful breast strokes, pushing off the bottom in a puff of fine sand. Kicking almost languidly, the young woman swam through a passing pod of dolphins, reaching out to stroke smooth bodies as they twirled and squealed around her. There was no fear of this majestic underwater world, if Laviku wished for her to be taken by one of his creatures, then that was the way of it. This was her home, under and on the ocean waves. Her periwinkle eyes followed the pod as they broke the surface, jumping and playing through the waves. With a few more steady kicks she followed their lead, breaking through and taking a deep breath of air. As much as she loved the water, she was not so blessed by Laviku that she could breathe under it. Bobbing on the surface, Rheyine looked at the Storm Runner as the late morning sunlight caressed its mangled hull. The casinor was in a dreadful way, so much so that the svefra wondered how on earth it had stayed afloat. During the dreadful storm only a few nights prior, the mast had snapped about one third of the way down, hanging uselessly by the ropes and pullies it had tangled in. On the way down, the jagged wood had caught the folded sail, tearing it loose in the violent winds and ripping the canvas almost top to bottom. Lengths of railing had been savagely torn from the sides and tossed into the black night time ocean, one side so bad it was clear you would be thrown overboard if you were standing there. Fortunately the hull was intact, but something somewhere must have been cracked or split, because she had found water in her food stores. And that’s where things really went wrong. The dried fish were now soggy salty fish, the rice was bloated and useless, barrels of pickled fish had spilled open and now the liquid combined with the other items was just revolting. She’d cleaned it out, throwing the ruined food overboard much to the delight of all the animals in the water around her and the seagulls above. But at least the feast for those creatures had paid her in kind, her net getting a good workout as the shoals came to feed. Across the bow end of the deck, her drying racks held strips of fish and kelp, drying as best she could. Salt was a lost commodity at this stage, but the sun would work well enough. From the stern angle, the broken casinor looked like it was abandoned. At least the anchor hadn't been lost in the storm. Without her sails, Rheyine was dead in the water. There had been an oar once, but her sister had lost it somewhere along its well used life. Oh, when she eventually saw her sister, there was going to be hell to pay. The young woman had contemplated trying to swim for shore, but the distance was too great. You couldn't even see landfall from here. And she couldn't just leave the Storm Runner. It was, after all, her boat. Her home. It contained her every possession. Even if it was broken. With a sigh, she began to swim towards the boat. At least her living area wasn't washed out. The small cooking brassier was a welcome heat source, and Rheyine intended on making a stew out of the mollusks, some fish stock and kelp for the slight saltiness it would provide. Her stomach growled for grains, but there was little could be done to help that. Maybe whilst the concoction simmered, she would take the time to bash the fibrous inedible seaweed she’d dried the other morning. That would at least give her fibers to make some twine, and then she could maybe stitch up the sail. That however, would require a punch. Rheyine’s mind continued its train of thought as she swam to the boat, wondering what she could find on the seabed below to make a punch. The fact she had no idea how to sew didn't occur to the girl. It couldn't be that hard, she thought as she swam, reaching the bow of her hull.

[Finian Truewind]

"Ahoy!"

He'd shouted it a few times in both Fratava and Common, raising his voice well above the luffing of his sails in the wind as he worked to slow The Handmade'n, frustrated that the stiff end-of-summer breeze was making it so difficult to bring his casinor to a stop as quickly as he'd like to.

"Anyone aboard?"

Blue eyes slid listlessly over the water for signs of life, before glancing back to the other ship. The itinerant shipwright immediately noticed the broken mast, torn sail, crushed railing. He winced. It had been a rough storm a few days back. Rough enough to toss him and his casinor about the open sea as well, leaving him more battered and sore than his boat. His mains'l, too, had some tears that needed sewn, but near a reef like the one that crawled below, boats and their inhabitants could surely be crushed, broken, and drowned. Hoping someone would emerge from belowdecks at his shouting, Finian finally resolved himself to further investigation once he was met with still more silence.

He'd seen the battered casinor on the horizon at first light, hovering just within his groggy view as he woke. At first, he was too far to think much of it, but as it was just a few degrees off of his current course toward a handful of rocky, forested isles that peeked up out of the sea, he decided it was worth steering towards. What if the storm had left someone injured? Or what if there was some work to be had? The islands were tiny things with just enough beach to stretch out on and a handful of trees to string a hammock up in, but they were big enough to use as shelter should another storm crash through. Syliras was only a day or so from there, but Ian wanted to repair his sails before the winds picked up again or the seas got ugly in another sudden weather change.

The seasons were shifting, that much he knew. Mornings were chilled and the stars had become more crisp. Early fall storms were dangerous, and once he got close enough to the other casinor to see how broken it was, Ian became worried.

Lagoon blue eyes continued to search for some sign of movement even as he let calloused hands slack his mains'l before casting his heads'l sheets all the way. Dumping the wind, he felt his casinor lurch, rounding up like a windvane and coming to a full stop. Water splashed over his starboard rails and he turned to drop anchor. The mainsheet fell completely slack and as he stood, he secured the boom to keep it that way.

Finian shrugged off his vest, stepping carefully across his deck. He paused to tuck his hatchet into his belt before slipping almost thoughtlessly into the sea. The water was cold enough to make him gasp, wincing as his more enjoyable bits attempted to flee all the way into his diaphragm. The reef was close enough to the surface to be visible, wafting with kelp and sealife. With a breath or two, he ducked under the waves, scanning the sunlit water for signs of the broken ship's residents.

When he couldn't see anyone, he swam the few strokes toward the other casinor. Using the broken railing as his entrance, the Svefra clambered ungracefully onto the deck. Fish and kelp lay sunning on the bow, but the scent of spoiled food clung to the rest of the ship. It was an odd mix of sights and scents. No other signs of anyone being on deck caught Finian's eye. No blood, either, which he allowed as an encouragement.

"Hello!" He called again in Fratava, running fingers over torn sailcloth and rigging as he ducked under the boom.

Well, if no one was around, if the crew had drown in the storm, then there surely was enough wood around to take as scrap. He'd have to poke his head belowdecks before coming to that conclusion, however. Not all of the sailcloth was ruined, either. The heads'l still looked in good shape even if the mains'l had been mangled.

But who set out food to sun before dying? Was it some offering to Laviku left behind? Well, it looked tasty enough either way.

Finian found himself munching on a fistful of whatever was sunning on the bow without a second thought, wandering the rest of the deck, lagoon blue eyes taking note of the damage. One hand on his hatchet, the other shoving fresh fish into his mouth, he stopped looking for life as soon as he became distracted examining what the storm had done to the casinor, a ship much older than his own.

The damage didn't appear to destroy the seaworthiness of the vessel, but it certainly wasn't going to go anywhere without repairing the mast.

Perhaps it could be towed. The islets he had in mind weren't too far away.

Surely he could figure out a way to tug the crippled ship along with his own, if the wind was strong enough, and salvage what he could at his leisure while fixing up his sails.

Mmm.

Fish.

He had been hungry.

Convenient, Ian thought inwardly, reminding himself to find an appropriate thanks for Laviku's kindness after he finished his investigations.

He'd started to get lost in some of the eccentric signs of good craftsmanship hidden about the ship when he heard the splashing off the bow. Startled, Ian had given up on there being anyone living aboard. A bit of stolen sea food still in his teeth, he turned in surprise, one hand reaching for his hatchet as the other grabbed for some of the rigging to keep himself from slipping. Only, the rigging his hand found was torn and broken, which meant there was nothing there to catch his weight.

"Hell—"

Finian began a friendly, if not slightly cautious greeting despite his mouth being full. Then, rather unexpectedly to himself, he slipped when there was nothing to hold him up. Sprawling across the deck in a blur of blond locks and tanned skin, he trailed his,

"—ooh!" in a different, more pained tone, all without getting a good look at who was coming aboard.

Petch. He hoped they weren't someone else coming to salvage his find.

[Rheyine Stormchaser]

Rheyine found the familiar nooks and footholds on the edge of the Storm Runner, scaling the side of the hull with a heavy splash as she pulled out of the water. Reaching the damaged railing, the young svefra pulled herself up and over, landing with a thud on the deck. It was then she saw the wet footprints trailing across the timber under her feet, past her drying racks. She frowned, looking back down the boat towards the stern. There was another casinor anchored just a ways from her own. Why in all the Seas hadn’t she seen that before? Fishing net in one hand full of mollusks, knife in the other, the woman followed the footprints slowly. Her eyes were wide, cautious of a possible ambush from the other side of the cabin. Whilst she trusted her own, there was always the chance that a friend could easily be a foe. As she rounded the edge slowly there was a voice, masculine by nature and in Fratava. She pressed herself against the cabin as the sound was followed by a loud thump and a pained groan. Curiosity got the better of Rheyine, and holding the knife before her she stepped out from the side of the cabin. She blinked, taking a moment for her mind to process the sight before her. It was a man, on his back on the side of her deck, with the loose rigging from her sail in one hand whilst the rest came to fall beside his prone form where it had come out of its pulley. He was blonde with a collection of braids and glass trinkets spattered through his locks, sun kissed much like herself, and still wet from what she could only presume was the swim to her boat. He wasn’t of her Pod however, and as she cautiously moved closer the fisherwoman knew that she didn’t recognize his face. Across his side and left arm she could see the waves of Laviku, a sure sign of Svefra. This put her at ease, if only slightly. “Hello?” Rheyine said in Fratava with a curious tone, as though she couldn’t decide whether to be cautious or friendly. “Are you hurt?” It was then she recognized her fish. Or what was left of it. A small spurt of indignation ran through her then. It was all well and good to claim what was not being used, but this was on her own casinor. Her possessions in her boat. This was not some trinket left laying on the beach after she was done with it. And sure, her boat was a bit broken, but it wasn’t free claim. Was he trying to steal it? Or rather, the rigging? Rope could be hard to come by, it was a valuable asset to any seafarer. But it was her asset. Not his. And that was her fish. The newly found sense of loss at her damaged food stores had Rheyine feeling somewhat protective of her catch. Stopping a few feet shy of the man, the girl studied him with periwinkle eyes, picking up on the hatchet in his belt. She kept her knife held before her. A thousand things ran through her head. But only one stuck in her mind at this time. “You ate my fish.” Rheyine said rather matter-of-factly, as though this was the most important of all the things her brain had come up with, her dirty blonde hair and wet clothing dripping onto the deck forming a slow puddle.

[Finian Truewind]

He wiped the last evidence of his thievery from the stubble under his chin with the still-wet back of his hand, the brine of the Suvan a thicker scent than the quickly swallowed stolen sun-dried breakfast. Finian managed barely more than a sheepish apology, shrugging the threat off with half a grin, but only because she was a tiny thing, the dripping silhouette brandishing a fishing knife in his general direction. It's not like there weren't any more fish in the Suvan, anyway.

Obviously.

At least she was Svefra, which was a relief despite her very pointed level of momentary, though perhaps not unfounded, distrust of his person aboard her home.

He was about to ask whether her parents had been lost or injured during the storm as he shifted and began to stand, but the itinerant shipwright caught himself just in time, realizing this was no youth once he had a moment to look the young woman over without the brightness of Syna’s fresh morning face in his eyes. If he lingered at all with his glance on her tanned skin or hair as light as his own, he did what he could to appear to notice more of her makeshift netting turned bag full of sea bounty than the rest of the dripping body in front of him, awkwardly hovering mid-thought with his mouth open for a tick or two.

"Uh..."

Ian paused on that single tone too long to be polite, caught off-guard, "Sorry. I didn't realize... I thought--"

He waved a hand about purposefully toward the brokenness of her casinor--the rails, the sail, the rigging--as if the gestures would suffice to explain his intrusion, as if somehow it was enough of a reason to be there after it was obvious the storms had left her scuttled in the sea far from any real stretch of land. He nodded his platinum collection of braids and sea glass in the direction of her mains’l mast in final indication of his reasoning. Whether or not he was hoping for scrap or spare parts was now besides the point; he was much happier to be met with the living instead of the dead when given the choice.

Was she alone? Was anyone else hurt? He probably could have asked these things, but didn’t.

"--I was worried," he finally admitted, continuing with concerned hand motions in their shared language for emphasis. The taller Svefra offered a smile to make his good will more official-looking. “Name’s Finian,” he added, not expecting his family line to be known anywhere but back on the Anchorage Flotilla, “Of the Truewind pod.”

“It was quite a storm a few days ago, and I thought I’d make sure everyone here was alright. It seems your casinor got the worst of it, eh?”

[Rheyine Stormchaser]

Rheyine held her knife before her loosely, less a threat and more of a 'I-have-a-knife' kind of pose, as the man began to rise with a grin on his face. The remark had been somewhat brainless, but well...he had...eaten her fish. It wasn't that it was the only fish out on the ocean ever. It was...well it was just... It was complicated. And then he was up, and he was staring at her, his mouth open. Or her net, with the mollusks she had just collected. It took all of her willpower not to pull the bag protectively to her chest. Was he perhaps starving? Suddenly she felt a twinge of guilt at being so caught up by the eaten fish. Petch, it was Laviku's will that brought those fish to her boat when she tossed out the ruined stock, and His will was not hers to understand. Perhaps He had given her so much fish in the first haul to feed a hungry kinsman when he came climbing her railing. "Uh..." The sound hung in the air between them longer than it really should have, and Rheyine wondered if Fratava wasn't his native tongue. It had been known to happen. A svefra living within a common tongue pod. Not a normalcy, but she had heard it before. Combined with his slack jawed look, the young woman was convinced he didn't speak Fratava enough to understand her. She took a breath, dragging together common words in her mind with what she could recall. As she began to speak, the stranger spoke again, in fluent and clearly native Fratava. Her periwinkle gaze followed his gestures towards the broken pieces of her boat. The rails, the sail, the rigging...and finally she turned her head to gaze up at the mast as he nodded his head towards it. Turning back again as he spoke, the fisherwoman listened as the man finally explained himself, his gestures expressing his genuine words. Truewind, she didn't know that pod. “It was quite a storm a few days ago, and I thought I’d make sure everyone here was alright. It seems your casinor got the worst of it, eh?” The tension in her shoulders she didn't know had been there released in a wave of relief. In two quick steps she reached Finian and wrapped her arms around his waist, netted catch and knife still in each hand, and hugged him warmly. Stepping back, the blonde beamed up at him with honest delight. "Oh you have no idea! There was one point, where I was holding ont'the railing and just looking up, and there was this wave ne'er seen a wave so high in all my life! Thought for sure Laviku was taking me there'n'then. Pretty good day to die, on your birthday..but then I didn't die. The Storm Runner, I didn't know she was gonna be so touchy! I've sailed her before, but y'know, she was my sisters boat before she was mine. I'm still getting used t'all her little...quirks!" Her knife hand gestured wildly at the boat in general with a breathless laugh, excited that someone had found her in the middle of the ocean. Looking at the knife, she gasped with wide eyes, before laughing again and shaking her head as she tucked the knife into the net with the mollusks. "Sorry! I wasn't going t'stab you or anything. I was lifting abalone, and then I got on board and there was noise and I was like 'woah is this a friend or a pirate?' but then your alright." Turning as she spoke, Rheyine put the net down beside the door to her cabin, before turning to face him again. Squeezing out her hair and shaking it to loose some of the water, the girl smiled and nodded at him, taking a breath to calm herself down. "Well met, Finian Truewind. I'm Rheyine, of the Stormchaser pod." Hands on hips, the woman smiled wryly and shook her head. "I've been stranded for a few days now. It's not so bad, I have fish t'catch." Her brow furrowed slightly and her smile fell as she walked to the side of the boat, leaning on the less damaged railing with a dangerous creak. "I've had t'replenish my stock. The storm water got into the cargo hold, and everything was ruined. My fish, my dried supplies...the petching grain." Staring out over the water, Rheyine spoke a little softer. "I didn't realize the open ocean could be so..empty." The food stores, the cleaning, the damage...nothing compared to the loneliness. Everyone wanted to be alone one time or another, but to be truly alone when you didn't have a choice. It was more boring than she could have ever possibly imagined. Turning her head to look over her shoulder at him, she smiled a little. "Y'know?"

[Finian Truewind]

Finian laughed, whole-heartedly welcoming the embrace. He inhaled deeply the familiar scent of sea brine that clung with habitual comfort to their still-wet skin. Without reservation in his enthusiasm and relief, he may have even lifted the smaller, more delicate Svefra off her toes, just for a heartbeat or two, before releasing her, completely unconcerned about the sharp object waving about in one of her hands. It was, indeed, a comfort to find friends on the sea, especially when those friends where his own people. He'd spent more than a few seasons away from his family, and yet, being alone on the Suvan wasn't always his favorite.

No, it was definitely when the storms hit, that he especially missed the Flotilla, his family, and familiarity in general.

His eyes slid away from hers as she explained her circumstance, one faintly sunset-kissed eyebrow lifting at the mention of the anniversary of her birth before he found himself distracted by all the destruction the storm had wrought on her casinor — the railing was easily fixed. He may have even had enough wood belowdecks to do that job quickly enough … the tiny islets nearby surely had even more lumber if needed to finish the repairs —Rheyine put her knife away with an apology and the blond shipwright smiled, snapping his gaze away from her torn up rigging and ripped sails in time to beam warmly at her introduction.

His expression faded at the mention of her food loss, knowing full well that supplies could make or break survival on the sea alone.

"Aye," he managed as a response, unwilling to completely reveal just how much her comment on emptiness resonated with his own feelings after storms alone at sea, "But Laviku keeps his eyes on his people, and he has especially smiled on us today."

Ian attempted to brush off too much sincerity and seriousness with another warm, loud laugh, waving calloused hands in an effort to express the lightness he hoped to bring into their conversation, "Syliras isn't too far from here … a day, maybe two. There's food to be traded for there, I'm sure …"

He watched for a hint of confusion. How would she get there? Well, he was happy to help.

"I may be able to get this old casinor sailing again." There was a twinkle in his lagoon blue eyes, tongue behind his teeth with a thoughtful slyness, "It's what I do. Fix ships—" He reached out to run fingers over broken netting, nodding his platinum head in the general direction of the islets he was headed for even before their fortunate meeting, "—and the storm left mine a bit roughed up as well. There are some rocks and trees and a bit of sand about half a day's sail that way. It's enough shelter in case another storm blows through, and I may even be able to get your mast back as it should be. I can't make any promises, but I'm most sure we can get you back to sailing again … especially if you can keep us both fed."

This was a good day. Better than days had been recently. It may not have been a paying day, by the looks of things, or a paying tenday for that matter, but surely, it was for a reason that would play out in its own time.

Finian's smile broadened as he spoke, "Our Sea Father knew we'd meet today, Rheyine Stormchaser, and I, for one, am grateful already."

[Rheyine Stormchaser]

Rheyine turned fully to face the taller man as he spoke, leaning casually on the protesting railing and resting her hands on the roughened wood. She smirked, nodding with enthusiasm as she chuckled. "Indeed, Laviku has smiled on us this day." As he continued, speaking of Syliras, the wind picked up almost as though it realized it had been the content of their conversation. A gust, nothing more, just enough to tug at loose blonde tresses and tease the ripped sail with a pathetic reminder of what it had once been able to achieve. Rheyine watched Finian with slightly narrowed eyes, a tilt to her head. Sure, even she was aware that Syliras was close, but did he mean for her to swim? It wasn't that close. The girl took a breath, opening her mouth to ask how he suggested she get to the city, when he continued. Her smile was filled with delight as he spoke of getting The Storm Runner sailing again, the look in his eye infectious and his smile delightful. It was the same smile she got when she thought about the best fishing spots, or pulling in a huge fish after hours of fighting on the line. It couldn't have been more fortuitous that their paths crossed. A shipwright, in the middle of the Suvan, after a horrendous storm. Laviku took care of His own. Allowing her gaze to wander, Rheyine followed the slight ebb of the waves on Finian's Oceanus and the trinkets in his hair, studying the man as he looked over her damaged vessel. There was a sea eagle on his shoulder, flying amidst the flowing of Laviku's markings. Her own eagle spread across her back was a mark of her pod, the paradisa of her family. She wondered if this Truewind Pod shared the same link to the winged creature of Laviku. His hands were filthy, not from grime and grease but from hard work and dedication. Realizing the awkward situation her study of his markings could create, the blonde blushed. Turning her head to look in the direction of the man's nodding, Rheyine tucked a wild strand away from her face as the wind once again took a playful turn. It would be good to beach on the islets, rather than pulling into the thick of Syliras. She could probably find some wild rice growing in the foliage too. Grinning, the young svefra turned back to Finian with a raised eyebrow, catching sight of her sheer linen sarong fluttering on the railing behind him. "Oh aye, I can feed us. Ain't a fish I can't catch." Pushing off the railing with a squeaking creak of broken timber, Rheyine moved across the deck to rescue her coffee colored sarong from the railing before the wind pulled it into the water. Tying it casually around her hips, the blonde pulled two fillets of drying fish from the rack as she came back. Tossing one to Finian, she smiled. "Get me t'those islets and maybe I can fix us a feast. For two. T'celebrate good fortune, new friends. And Laviku's blessings." She shook the dried seafood for emphasis. Any excuse for a party, even if it was just the two of them, was enough to ward off the boredom and loneliness of her days of solitude. Leaning against the railing again with one hand and bringing the fish to her mouth, Rheyine had pushed the battered wood to its tenuous limit. It creaked, then snapped under her slight weight. "Wha-" Suddenly grasping onto a piece of wood with nothing behind it and a rather unhelpful piece of dried fish, the young woman's periwinkle eyes widened as she teetered on the edge of the casinor, fighting to catch her balance and not make a fool of herself in front of her new found friend.

[Finian Truewind]

Finian quickly decided the woman's smile was a little infectious, and he certainly wasn't complaining. If he noticed her staring at his tattoos or the color that rose to her cheeks, he didn't have time to comment on her attentions. There was more dried fish in his hands and the promise of partying and eating. While mizas were what he usually considered acceptable payment, food and drink with fire and companionship sounded perfectly agreeable at this particular moment,

"I don't think the islets are too far." He hummed thoughtfully with his mouth already mostly full of fish, pointing straight over the bow of Rheyine's casinor toward the horizon. His eyes wandered from the sea toward sun-kissed skin as she dressed herself. He swallowed and added with a more lopsided grin, "Maybe a few more bells that'a'way in wind like this."

The reef the young woman had been fishing near created a jagged path of lighter, shallower water like a road in the darker depths of the cold Suvan. While it probably didn't lead all the way to the islets of Ian's memory, it was just the navigational landmark he had been searching for before the storm.

He opened his mouth to give a brief description of the islets—how they were just small, rocky things with a bit of sand and trees, how they were just close enough to Syliras for birds to nest there, how sometimes a herd of fat seals could be found when the sun was warm, or how he'd stopped there more than once as a boy with his family when traveling to Syliras for supplies while the Anchorage Flotilla was in this part of the Suvan—but then the distressed wooden railing snapped behind the petit blonde. She'd only taken a few steps away, but they were enough to put her out of immediate arm's reach.

Finian had to make a choice between the woman and the fish.

It was, for that single tick, a difficult choice.

So, he chose both. Mostly.

"Gotcha!"

One calloused hand shoved the remaining bits of dried fish into his mouth and he closed the distance between himself and his teetering acquaintance with a single long-legged stride. His newly freed hand reached out to grasp at Rheyine's, catching her wrist even as he continued to move forward. His other hand flailed about in search of something more solid, stable, or at least not broken. He didn't find anything satisfactory in the few ticks he had to search, and he was instead forced to try and cease his forward momentum, tugging the smaller woman toward him at the same time. Maybe he pulled a little too hard, maybe he miscalculated her size, or maybe he was suddenly distracted by the familiar animal he just noticed spread its wings across her back in ink—should he have been paying attention to his grandmother's lineage stories?—

"Oops."

And then he was off balance with the other blonde careening towards him instead of overboard her own ship, which could have been considered a better direction had the circumstances been different.

Having over-compensated on all accounts, he sent them both crashing to the deck of the fisher woman's casinor in a tangle of flailing limbs and fish.

"Oof!"

[Rheyine Stormchaser]

There were all sorts of things that could have happened in the seconds it took for Finian to react. She could have toppled into the ocean, a laugh but completely harmless. She could have deftly grabbed another part of the railing, and it may or may-not have snapped. Then there were the things that could have happened when Finian did reach her. He could have cleverly grabbed her hand and twirled her into his chest with all the manliness of those childish love stories some of the older women giggled about. He could have lost his balance the other way and flipped them both into the sapphire waves below. Instead the least expected thing happened. It all happened so fast that Rheyine barely had time to blink. Finian had her wrist and was pulling her back on deck to regain her balance. She spun around to face him with wide eyes. But it was too hard, too enthusiastic. She made a yelp of surprise as she crashed into his chest, before they both topped back onto the relative safety of the deck, the piece of broken railing and dried fish flying from her hands. Landing amidst a cloud of blonde tresses and glass beads, the smaller svefra felt a twinge of pain as her knee thunked the deck between his legs, missing tender parts she was pretty sure he would be less than happy to have a knee on. Only just. It was quiet as the world came to a sudden halt, their bodies clashing together driving the air out of her lungs with a sound like an outward gasp. Groaning, Rheyine took a few moments to allow herself to gather her senses, forehead resting on the hollow of the taller man's neck. Her wrist was still in his grasp, other arm thrown over his shoulder to land on the deck, the rest of her body splayed over him in a tangle of legs, hair and necklaces. She pushed herself up with the free hand, her blonde locks hanging down around their faces. Looking down at the shipwright, the slight woman frowned slightly. "You got me alright." She said with a hint of pain. Her knee throbbed, but she'd live. A nasty bruise maybe, but that would be all. Why in all the wide ocean had he yanked her so hard?! Some rescue! Pushing herself further still, she sat up on his leg, suddenly laughing. "It seems that you're more comfortable on your back than on your feet Finian." Rheyine said with a smile, realizing that in the short space he'd been on her deck, the poor shipwright had slipped over twice. Beneath his fingers, her Oceanus ebbed slowly around her wrist and cascaded on the crease of her elbow like an incoming tide.

[Finian Truewind]

There were all sorts of things that could have happened in the handful of ticks it took for Ian to react. He could have simply let her fall ungracefully overboard from her own casinor, watching from the broken railing as she splashed into the ocean. He could have laughed and waved and then helped her up again, dripping, back onto her own deck.

It would have just been nice if the railing hadn’t been broken by the storm … how old was this casinor, anyway?

Ian could have been a bit more talented in the art of rescuing women, but, well, he wasn’t. He couldn’t have felt more like a petching fool at the moment, though, that was for sure. He certainly could have been a bit more gentle, a bit more suave about pulling Rhyeine back from her fall. It would have been much more impressive had he, say, lightly twirled her in his direction with a smile.And, least of all, it would have hurt a bit less had he toppled them both into the Suvan. But, no, unfortunately, what the blond shipwright lacked in forethought he more than made up for in enthusiasm.

“M’sorry.” He finally managed, blinking stars from his vision. Things were still spinning and he took a moment before he could say anything else. The back of his head ached and his tailbone was, quite frankly, very upset with him for this whole misadventure. All the same, however, there was a lovely Svefra on top of him and she’d managed not to damage any of his more sensitive bits with her knee.

Both of these things weren’t so bad.

She was a tiny thing, but he didn’t want to say that outloud as an excuse. He grew up wrestling brothers and spent days bending wood to his will. He had underestimated his strength in his distraction, but he was not quite prepared to admit such a thing, not with the other blonde above him, haloed quite nicely by Syna’s morning glow.

His vision slowly came back into focus and he let his hand slide away from the waves drawn by godling fingers on her wrist, pained and embarrassed expression twisting into something more sly at her observation of where he chose to find his comforts. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, pinned beneath her. He tried not to let his hands wander simply because she was there, so he simply flattened his palms against the wet, worn wood of her deck. Color rose to his freckled cheeks, but his voice carried with it something a little less shy and a little more full of briney bravado, “Aye, y’think so? I don’t have to be so good on my feet if I’m good with my hands.”

Finian laughed then, obviously blushing, shifting slightly beneath her to sit up on his elbows, huffing loose strands of platinum hair from his face, “Next time, I’ll let’cha fall then.”

The blond shipwright winked, lagoon blue eyes as taunting as his tone, ”You’re just finding more work for me to do, anyway, y’know. Breaking more bits off this ol’ thing.” He realized his compromised position, but he couldn’t help himself to tease Rheyine, “Anything else you feel like taking apart before I can fix it again?”

Ian didn’t flinch or move to get up right away, though if released without too much physical harm to his person for his implications, he’d happily assist the blonde fisherwoman to her feet … with more care this time. Really.