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She’s falling.
She’s going to die. That’s all that she can think, stupidly, over and over. She doesn’t want to die. It’ll hurt, but that’s fine. But-
Please, Desna, take my soul, I am already part way yours-
She doesn’t want to go to the Shadow Plane. That would be bad. Admittedly, she never thought she’d have a different option, but having seen it, she-
She wants to live - and there’s a twisting feeling, the sensation of butterfly wings, and she’s somewhere else.
The Lorn-Fluke stares a long moment longer, as though considering Hallana's words... but the Captain doesn't give it that time, reaching over a ledge of dagger-like spines to stab their prey in the eye!
The Lorn-Fluke screams out a fiery curse in its unearthly language, whose meaning assaults your mind far more fiercely than the fire itself could (despite the fire itself lighting up the air in every direction).
<The Improbable Collusion Of Two Unrelated Perils>
The volume and force of the Fluke's furious expression is intense enough to drive zailors to their knees with bleeding ears.
Then, the Fluke blinks quickly, half-a-dozen times in the span of a second, each great blink crumpling and mangling the Captain's armour, before he slumps, is caught by the rising eyelid, and is hurled off the body of the Fluke and into the air!
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