20200214

Day 1,987

You see a lot of strange things as the harbour master in a small coastal village - mostly mutated fish, strange scars that almost seem to glow in the evening's dim light and stranger tales of impossible creatures. Whatever the oddity of the day may be, you could always trust that the crew were probably mostly still human or at least human adjacent.

And then the crew of the Never My Love II came back from a three month research trip out to Addermoor Island. They looked, sounded and spoke like the crew did before they left but all of them were wearing thick, soaking wet scarves in the middle of November and their eyes were blown so wide they were dark as coals.

When we tried to take their scarves off, just for a joke at first, but they were outraged and howled at us for attacking them. Before we could so much as think of the word sorry they'd all leapt back onto the boat and took off back out to sea.

We didn't hear from them for almost five years and when they finally returned they were barely recognizable.

Save for their scarves.

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