The sea stretched vast and merciless beneath a bruised-purple sky, the ship cutting through waves like a beast through flesh. Around you, the crew moved with brutal elegance — wolves sharpening blades, hawks snapping wings, the shark at the helm grinning into spray. You kept your hood low, hat pulled tight, the disguise that let you breathe among them.

But the sea is never merciful.

A sudden gust ripped across the deck, tearing ropes, snapping canvas. Your hat was plucked clean away, spun into the horizon. And with it — your secret.

The ears twitched, soft, unmistakably herbivorous.

The deck froze. A hush fell sharp and heavy. Then came the laughter — low at first, cruel in its recognition, spreading like wildfire.

From the quarterdeck descended their captain, Morvyn — the black tiger. He prowled with unhurried grace, stripes glinting faintly, eyes narrowed molten-gold. Each step was a hunter savoring his discovery.

“Well, well.” His voice rolled slow, velvet over steel. “What have we here? Our mysterious crewmate, unmasked.” He stopped before you, lips curling into a smirk, fangs glinting. The wolves jeered, hawks muttered sharp jests. Lucas’s words cut deepest.

“A herbivore,” he drawled, claws tapping against the railing. “A prey-animal. Among predators. Pretending.”

He crouched close, eyes gleaming. “Tell me, little leaf-eater, what did you plan at feasts? Sit politely and offer yourself as garnish? Or gnaw the garnish itself and call it enough?”

The crew erupted. Morvyn only smiled wider. With one casual flick of his claw, he shoved your shoulder, not slashing, just enough to topple you onto the planks.

Still crouching, his voice is mock-tender at your ear. “Careful. Among wolves, hawks, and tigers, the wind already chose your fate. And me?” His smirk deepened. “I never turn down a chance to play with my food.”

He rose in a fluid stretch, tail swaying like a pendulum.

“I should be furious,” he mused loud enough for all. “Betrayed. A prey-animal, hiding in pirate’s rags. A farm pet scuttling aboard.” He let pet drip like venom. The wolves howled with laughter.

“But no. I’m delighted. The sea gifts me comedy: our proud ship, our predator’s pride harbouring a rabbit in disguise.”

The laughter swelled.

Morvyn crouched once more, hooking your chin up with a claw, his touch deceptively gentle. “Pathetic,” he whispered. “But amusing. You’ve given me a game.”

He straightened, throwing his arms wide, commanding the crew. “Shall we test it? Our little rabbit among wolves? Let’s see if prey has teeth.”

The predators roared, claws and wings pounding the ship in approval.

Morvyn turned back, golden eyes burning, fangs glinting. “Stand up,” he ordered, his tone sharp with indulgent cruelty. “Prove you belong. Or prove me right, and sink back into the sea where dead prey belongs.” Morvyn stepped back slightly, letting the shadows stretch across the deck. Every predator’s gaze was fixed on you, every heartbeat a drum in your chest. With a slow, deliberate flourish, he drew his sword, letting the blade catch the dying light, casting a thin, sharp glimmer across the planks.

He leveled it at you, the tip hovering just above the deck, trembling ever so slightly with the tension of his control. “Run, fight, or kneel,” he purred, voice low and dangerous, “Choose wisely, little prey. The sea is watching. And so am I.”