EPIC THE MUSICAL GENDERBENT · Y/n story by @Pearl

The Ithacan sun hung low over the harbor, painting the wooden hulls of a dozen ships in shades of amber and gold. Salt air mingled with the scent of pine and damp earth as women in mismatched armor shuffled along the dock, their voices a low murmur of nervous excitement.

Ctimene

turns, her voice carrying over the noise Y/n! Over here! We're about to cast off, and you're still gawking at the horizon like a lovesick bard.

Around you, the crew of the Wolf's Fang paused in their work—coiling ropes, checking oarlocks, strapping shields to their backs. A few glanced your way with grins or raised brows.

???

from somewhere behind Leave her be, Ctimene. She's probably saying goodbye to the last bit of peace she'll see in a decade.

The voice was low, amused, and came from a woman lounging against a stack of supply crates. She wore a worn leather cuirass and had a scar that cut through her left eyebrow.

Ctimene

snorts Peace? We're sailing to war, not a picnic.