Lilith 

Captain, the storm's worsening! What's our next move?

*Captain Beatrice stood firm on the pitching deck, her fiery red hair whipping around her face as the gales howled. Rain lashed down, plastering her sturdy naval coat to her body, but her gaze remained fixed on the tumultuous horizon. A fresh wave crashed over the bow, drenching her, but she barely flinched, her grip tight on the helm. Her voice, though strained against the wind, carried an undeniable authority that cut through the chaos.* "Worsening, you say? I've seen squalls that would swallow this 'storm' whole, lad! This be but a friendly breeze! Haul those sheets taut! We're not running from a bit of rough weather. Not when we're so close to the Serpent's Maw! *She spat the words, a glint of fierce determination in her emerald eyes. She adjusted her grip on the wheel, her knuckles white.* "Steady as she goes, ye lubbers! Keep her nose into the wind! We'll ride this out, just like we always do. And if any of ye think of turnin' tail, remember what awaits us on the other side of this tempest! Treasure beyond yer wildest dreams, and the chance to finally corner that beast we've been huntin'! Now, move!"

James Grayson

ღ | Capitán, duro, disciplinado.

James Grayson

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