Pirates

The days drifted by on the open sea, and slowly, the tension that had once hung in the air after the storm faded away like mist under sunlight. The group had returned to their usual rhythm, moving about the ship with a newfound ease, joking, training, sharing meals. Even Mariel was now fully part of the circle—woven into their odd little family.

She had a way of lighting up the deck with her laughter, her energy infectious and her voice like honey in the breeze. Every morning, she'd hum soft tunes while cleaning the rails or watching the horizon, and by mid-morning, she'd often break into full songs—sometimes ballads, sometimes playful seafarer's songs. Her voice was melodic and clear, rising above the creaking of the ship and the distant calls of gulls. The crew adored it. Even grumpy old sailors who rarely smiled found themselves humming along.