@ofapocrypha for billy
the sea is gentle tonight.
the walrus rocks along the waves, drifting along with its hull of sleeping vagrants. few men remain on deck to observe the stars and smell the salt on the breeze. flint watches from the steps leading to the quarter deck, like a lazy lion looking out over his kingdom. below him is a man he doesn’t quite recognize who strains to read in the moonlight.
“ -- what’s your name?” flint suddenly asks, hoping that he spooks the young man.















