Stepping in
The fishermen, hardened by years at sea, didn’t flinch at the animal’s sorrowful call. To them, the sound meant nothing but distraction, noise layered over danger. Their hands stayed firm, knuckles white on harpoons and nets. They were poised, eyes sharp, waiting for their chance. “End it before it ends us,” one muttered grimly. They didn’t hear grief or desperation—only the threat of teeth, weight, and a body capable of tearing their boat apart.
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