Shimmering Sands the hawser rolls, the vessel’s whole and christ, it’s thin

it was kind of fitting that ford wanted to be a fish: he was weird, for one -- funny looking, for two -- rannveig could see him being a moray eel's doppleganger, all things considered.

i mean, he was full of teeth, full of vinegar, and kind of terrifying looking -- that definitely shared some qualities with the pelagic's mighty weasel-fish.

rannveig had surfaced a long time ago (or, what seemed a long time ago -in matters of time, it was really a few seconds) but ford was yet to be seen. as he crested the water he wondered if the swell of a wave had forced his brother's head down -- but, as soon as he began to worry, ford's weird head poked out from the foam-caps again -- cue daft smile.  not that rannveig was without his flaws; but if you asked rannveig if he had any flaws, he'd cheerily say no - his humble humor being the best part about him, of course.

paddling in these swells had not been easy, and finding himself tired, rannveig slipped to shore. part of him wanted to pester his brother further (was that not his duty, as the leetlest brother??) but a part of him knew -- or at least, thought -- that ford liked his time alone; he could have all the time in the world he wanted with the salty sea, for all rannveig cared -- especially if it made the skeletal brother extra-prune-skinned, therefore, repulsive to all the ladies.