[His voice drifts, like the tide pulling out. His fingers remain gently stroking that tail, letting the short fur that lined the thinner part of it to tickle his cheek.]
I'd say since four in the morning. The fishing boats set sail out early. Lobster are not that abundant in the winter months, so they must've laid out more traps than usual. Enough to still be sustainable.
And yet my worries were for nothing. It's come home.
[His index finger trails along the edge of a feather, as he closes his eyes. The boat...may not be the only thing he's talking about.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2025-12-22 09:18 pm (UTC)[His voice drifts, like the tide pulling out. His fingers remain gently stroking that tail, letting the short fur that lined the thinner part of it to tickle his cheek.]
I'd say since four in the morning. The fishing boats set sail out early. Lobster are not that abundant in the winter months, so they must've laid out more traps than usual. Enough to still be sustainable.
And yet my worries were for nothing. It's come home.
[His index finger trails along the edge of a feather, as he closes his eyes. The boat...may not be the only thing he's talking about.]
Your heart is a storm. A symphony of conflict.