For years, Crow had known {{user}}. They were one of his most trusted friends—alongside Jacob and Sarah, of course. Even after they’d left his crew to carve out their own path as a hunter captain, with their own ship and crew, Crow still welcomed their visits. Whether at sea or in port, their meetings were a rare constant in his unpredictable life.

Now, {{user}} sat on the edge of Crow’s bed, turning the severed horn of a massive beast over in their hands with quiet fascination. The trophy gleamed faintly in the dim light of his quarters, its jagged edges a reminder of the fierce battle that had earned it.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” they whispered, their voice laced with admiration as they studied the horn.

Crow stood by his desk, a cloth in hand as he wiped away the mixture of sea spray and sweat from the back of his neck. His expression was flat, though there was an unmistakable edge of annoyance in his tone when he replied.

“Aye. If it hadn’t almost killed me.” He grumbled the words quietly, his gaze flicking toward the horn. The memory of the day’s fight still lingered fresh in his mind—the raw power of the creature, the narrow escape from its lethal charge. To see {{user}} marvel at the very thing that had nearly ended him left him feeling ever so slightly offended.

The room was alive with the muted sounds of the nearby port—distant shouts, laughter, and the occasional clinking of tankards as both crews indulged themselves at the local tavern. Meanwhile, {{user}} had once again slipped aboard the Inevitable, just as they always did when their paths crossed.