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Fae bit back a smile.
'You're jealous,' she thought.
'I am not,' Feraal snapped. 'I simply don't trust anyone. You should follow my example. Hmph!'
Miyuki glanced over at Fae, her expression warm, unaware of the commentary unfolding mere feet from her.
As Fae stood there wool-gathering, the water seemed to ripple and the ship rocked.
Fae frowned, leaning forward slightly. At first, she thought it was shadow—perhaps a cloud passing over moonlight, nothing more than a trick of the eye, fatigue. The water was so clear, she imagined she could see shapes moving within the depths.
Then a shadow seemed to drift forward beneath the ship.
A vast, dark shape slid beneath the ship, so large it seemed impossible, its outline making her feel like her heart had stopped beating.
"Miyuki," she whispered, not daring to move a muscle.
Miyuki followed her gaze, and her beautiful eyes grew wide.
The creature surfaced slowly, a monumental presence rising from the depths, its back breaking the water in a smooth, unhurried arc. Moonlight traced its curve, silvering the scars and ridges along its skin.
They stood in stunned silence as it dove beneath the surface.
The displacement sent a surge of water rolling toward the hull. A wave rose and broke against the ship, salty water and white foam splashing over the rail, soaking their clothes, and stinging their skin with cold salt.
Miyuki laughed, startled and breathless.
Fae did, too—an unguarded sound, torn free by awe.
Feraal clung tighter to her hands with tiny claws.'Absolutely not,' he declared. 'The sea is full of enormous things. I feel like Pinocchio.'
Fae wiped seawater from her face, heart racing, and looked out over the dark water where the whale had vanished.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
But some experiences, she realised, did not need words.
***
The rest of the journey was not much better, with the seasickness bonding the two cabin mates in a strange kind of kinship born from mutual misery. They reached the port at the crack of dawn.
The ship eased in with a long, weary groan of metal and rope, the stacks of timber dark shadows against a sky just beginning to pale. Fae stood at the rail beside her companion, the salt wind tugging loose strands of hair around her face as the harbour came into focus—cranes, lights, the quiet choreography of a city waking, ready to face another day.
The parting was brief but warm.
Miyuki clasped Fae's hands, eyes bright with tears. "Jaa mata ne," she said, her eyes flicking to Feraal in Fae’s hand for a second. "I have business in the city, but I will return to the village. Maybe we will meet again."
Fae nodded, feeling like she was losing her lifeline and was adrift once again.
From the port, she moved quickly—guided through the orderly rush of human transit to the sleek lines of a high-speed train by the captain. The platform hummed with restrained energy, doors whispering open and shut, voices low and efficient.
The train cut through the landscape like an arrow.
Cities blurred into fields, fields into forested hills. The speed pressed Fae back into her seat, her wolf restless but not panicked. She was curled up with a resigned woof, her head under her paws as she wondered what her human wanted to do next.
They disembarked in a smaller city just after midday.
The air here was cleaner, edged with green rather than steel. The captain left her with directions.
