Blackwater Islands birds and stars

After nearly a year, Whip hits 100 posts!

The drudge descended upon the beach like a fading spirit. Silent and quick, Whip revealed himself only when necessary. He kept his head down and his gaze locked on the fish that had washed ashore as he made his way from the rocky, unforgiving cliffside to the coarse sand of the beach. His stomach rumbled, twisting into knots. After an extended bout of hunger, the Mothers had finally found him worthy of sustinance. Like the women who presided over him, the Mothers were unforgiving -- but they were fair. Under the watch of the sea, Whip would grow thin, but he would not die.

He fed for as long as he could, but Whip soon found himself drawing the attention of a siren further down the shore. She called to him long before Whip could fill his wanting belly. He turned his head and regarded the siren with cool reluctance. But, come closer he did. By her command, Whip approched with his head bowed in deference.

"Yes?" he asked. Whatever it was that the woman required, Whip hoped he could return to his meal before the sea saw fit to drag it away with the passing tide.