37th of Spring, 513 AV
“Hurry up. We’ll be reachin’ the shore soon.”
Nyxie didn’t bother to ask where they were going. It wasn’t as if they’d tell her, anyways. She was simply under their care and guidance; her use was a mere step above the newly captured slave aboard their ship. The redhead exhaled a long and heavy sigh, flicking an irritated glance at the man who ordered her obedience.
“Yes, father.”
She stood by the rails, draping the net over her right arm, letting the weights dangle in the air. Her technique required a steady hand, and she knew the wind would make her falter. The cast needed to be done before they reached shallower waters. It stressed her out, making her shuffle her feet about the deck.
“Come on, luv! Throw it now, or you’ll lose them!”
The encouragement was tossed by the gruff voice of a woman; one that Nyxie had learned to trust far more than anyone else. “But Heila, the wind, it’s⎯”
“Bend your torso forward more. It’ll help you counteract the force of the wind, allowing you to better balance the centrifugal force of your shot.”
She makes it sound so petching easy.
A guttural groan was followed by a circular throw, the arc of her shot extending her right arm as far as it would go. She held the landline in the fingers of her left, gripping it tightly, knowing that the catch would succumb to the sinking trap any tick now.
“Good, that was good. But it’s not a perfect circle. Make sure to anticipate the movement in your mind, and account for the imbalance of the ship’s movement.”
“Oh, sure. Tell me that after I throw the net.” She shot a smirk at her slave. Heila just shrugged, returning it with a sympathetic countenance. The woman knew the redheaded child much too well to be offended in any way; she took the retort as a simple instruction to provide more direction next time. The slave then turned back to tend to the younger man aboard the ship, feeding him a meal as he sat on a wooden crate, with his hands bound together in manacles.
Nyxie waited in silence until she felt the landline pull taut. A gasp escaped her lips as she was suddenly dragged over to lean against the rails, the net tugging away from the hull. It took her a tick to regain her strength, pulling at the landline hand over hand, reeling in her prize. She hoisted the net over the rails with a grunt, and then chucked it onto the wooden deck.
The Svefra grinned. A pile of squirming, glistening, wide-eyed fish now sat by her feet. Pride grew within her, blue eyes glittering with pleasure.
“That’s it? Ya realize that’s not enough, eh?” The captain looked over his shoulder as he stood by the wheel. He gazed at his daughter with a dissatisfied frown, his tone clearly filled with frustration. “Rick, we’ll have to cut our days short with business here, mate⎯we won’t have enough t’ last more than two days,” he stated, directing his comments at his brother.
“The Tempests should arrive before the sun sets. I’m sure we’ll be alright, Gerry,” the voice was deeper than her father’s; it was a voice that spoke of confidence and grace. The older man stepped over to clasp a hand onto his brother’s shoulder, taking a slow, long draw from the pipe he held in the other. “Aye, have a little faith.”
“I’m going for a walk.”
She turned her back to the ship and ignored the pestering warnings from her father. Nyxie felt she did enough to help already. Let Erich do the petchin’ unloading. The redhead stole a glance over her shoulder to catch her cousin fire an annoyed scowl. She knew he’d be asked to go after her.
The Captain wouldn’t want her to be alone.
Messages from the Avikki :
“Hurry up. We’ll be reachin’ the shore soon.”
Nyxie didn’t bother to ask where they were going. It wasn’t as if they’d tell her, anyways. She was simply under their care and guidance; her use was a mere step above the newly captured slave aboard their ship. The redhead exhaled a long and heavy sigh, flicking an irritated glance at the man who ordered her obedience.
“Yes, father.”
She stood by the rails, draping the net over her right arm, letting the weights dangle in the air. Her technique required a steady hand, and she knew the wind would make her falter. The cast needed to be done before they reached shallower waters. It stressed her out, making her shuffle her feet about the deck.
“Come on, luv! Throw it now, or you’ll lose them!”
The encouragement was tossed by the gruff voice of a woman; one that Nyxie had learned to trust far more than anyone else. “But Heila, the wind, it’s⎯”
“Bend your torso forward more. It’ll help you counteract the force of the wind, allowing you to better balance the centrifugal force of your shot.”
She makes it sound so petching easy.
A guttural groan was followed by a circular throw, the arc of her shot extending her right arm as far as it would go. She held the landline in the fingers of her left, gripping it tightly, knowing that the catch would succumb to the sinking trap any tick now.
“Good, that was good. But it’s not a perfect circle. Make sure to anticipate the movement in your mind, and account for the imbalance of the ship’s movement.”
“Oh, sure. Tell me that after I throw the net.” She shot a smirk at her slave. Heila just shrugged, returning it with a sympathetic countenance. The woman knew the redheaded child much too well to be offended in any way; she took the retort as a simple instruction to provide more direction next time. The slave then turned back to tend to the younger man aboard the ship, feeding him a meal as he sat on a wooden crate, with his hands bound together in manacles.
Nyxie waited in silence until she felt the landline pull taut. A gasp escaped her lips as she was suddenly dragged over to lean against the rails, the net tugging away from the hull. It took her a tick to regain her strength, pulling at the landline hand over hand, reeling in her prize. She hoisted the net over the rails with a grunt, and then chucked it onto the wooden deck.
The Svefra grinned. A pile of squirming, glistening, wide-eyed fish now sat by her feet. Pride grew within her, blue eyes glittering with pleasure.
“That’s it? Ya realize that’s not enough, eh?” The captain looked over his shoulder as he stood by the wheel. He gazed at his daughter with a dissatisfied frown, his tone clearly filled with frustration. “Rick, we’ll have to cut our days short with business here, mate⎯we won’t have enough t’ last more than two days,” he stated, directing his comments at his brother.
“The Tempests should arrive before the sun sets. I’m sure we’ll be alright, Gerry,” the voice was deeper than her father’s; it was a voice that spoke of confidence and grace. The older man stepped over to clasp a hand onto his brother’s shoulder, taking a slow, long draw from the pipe he held in the other. “Aye, have a little faith.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I’m going for a walk.”
She turned her back to the ship and ignored the pestering warnings from her father. Nyxie felt she did enough to help already. Let Erich do the petchin’ unloading. The redhead stole a glance over her shoulder to catch her cousin fire an annoyed scowl. She knew he’d be asked to go after her.
The Captain wouldn’t want her to be alone.
.