Day 2, and 1 of 3 for the 30 day challenge - Lines
(Disclaimer - I know next to nothing about sailing and ships, so please don’t shoot me if I made silly errors.) :)
Title: Lines
Author: Redstainheart
Theme: Storm
Original or Fandom: Original
Rating: None
Warnings: None
The rigging snapped back and forth in the wind, the lines singing with tension.
A storm boiled along the horizon, the roiling leaden wall moving with eerie speed. Dusk hovered under the clouds, the wicked dark sliced here and there with lightning. Though, it was yet still too far out to hear the thunder, or feel the resonation of their booming rumbles.
He clung to the ropes, halfway up, watching the pitch and yaw of the waves grow, feeling the ship tilt and sway. Already the vessel was groaning and creaking, tarred timbers complaining of rough treatment.
Below him was all restrained hurry, captain and crew prepping for the oncoming weather. They lashed what could be lashed, loosening one line and tightening another. Their movements were a mystery to him, being only a passenger himself and not a man of the sea - though he had sailed with them this past two months and more, long enough to be comfortable climbing the rigging in the face of a squall.
He tightened his grip, riding the web of ropes as the wind roared in, rocking the ship wildly. Furled sails strained against their lashings, wanting to catch the air. The single remaining canvas that had yet to be rolled up bellowed, stretched as hard and tight as a drum. He was sure that if he were able to touch it, it would be vibrating with the strain, almost alive under his hands.
Title: Lines
Author: Redstainheart
Theme: Storm
Original or Fandom: Original
Rating: None
Warnings: None
The rigging snapped back and forth in the wind, the lines singing with tension.
A storm boiled along the horizon, the roiling leaden wall moving with eerie speed. Dusk hovered under the clouds, the wicked dark sliced here and there with lightning. Though, it was yet still too far out to hear the thunder, or feel the resonation of their booming rumbles.
He clung to the ropes, halfway up, watching the pitch and yaw of the waves grow, feeling the ship tilt and sway. Already the vessel was groaning and creaking, tarred timbers complaining of rough treatment.
Below him was all restrained hurry, captain and crew prepping for the oncoming weather. They lashed what could be lashed, loosening one line and tightening another. Their movements were a mystery to him, being only a passenger himself and not a man of the sea - though he had sailed with them this past two months and more, long enough to be comfortable climbing the rigging in the face of a squall.
He tightened his grip, riding the web of ropes as the wind roared in, rocking the ship wildly. Furled sails strained against their lashings, wanting to catch the air. The single remaining canvas that had yet to be rolled up bellowed, stretched as hard and tight as a drum. He was sure that if he were able to touch it, it would be vibrating with the strain, almost alive under his hands.