Selkie

Well. Part two of the tale written for the Lady Redjay. I reckon there are no warnings bar bad language that I need to make, but if there are, my apologies. Tale and most characters belong to me, Jared G. Juckiewicz, and I own the copyright on them. Muirgen belongs to Lamia Macdonald, and is used with permission

We had all gathered round the Selchie, although I was still keeping my distance. Fenris Take It, my paw bloody hurt. And there would be naught with flesh on its bones for me to feed on bar fish. Tyrone was translating for us. "She says 'er name is Muirgen. An' She's been her since..., oh, She cannae remember how long." Nods from around the circle. I licked my paw. That bite had been uncalled for. I was only trying to eat the lass...
Vixen must have sensed my irritation, cause she began stroking my ruff. "Easy, Gorm" she muttered, and I relaxed a bit, resting my muzzle on her legs again. Tyrone was continuing with his tale. "She says she can't shed her skin. Turn back to Human. She's been trapped a seal for centuries, I reckon. She's not quite sure of the passage of time. She says the Wolf will know what she means." I nodded at that. When one spends any length of time longer than a few days as a beast, the days begin to meld into one another. Hard to keep much track of time. At least up north, you have the changing seasons to keep you straight. This far south , there's a lot less variability. "What could manage that?" Asked Vaul, and I growled slightly. I knew something that could do it. Illus too remembered. He knew that tale in full. He'd had a hand in it's ending too. "Magic." He said softly, and Tyrone nodded. "Aye, Lad. Black Magic. She says there be a Sea Hag lives in a cave on a key around here somewhere. Preys on ships and planes that come to close. Drains their crews to keep herself alive." My growl rose. Sounded like blood magic to me, and I'd had my share of run-ins with that.
Vixen scritched between my ears. "Seems my Wolf dislikes this tale. Perhaps he'd be willing to lend aid against the Hag." She said, grinning. I settled back down. She knows me so well. Illus spoke next. "I suppose, that under the circumstances, a gentlemen could have no alternative but to proffer aid. Milady, will slaying the hag end the spell?" Muirgen dipped her head, and Tyrone translated. "Aye, she says." Vaul stood up, and declared "weel, What be we waitin' fer? Where away?" Muirgen reared back, clapping her flippers. "ORNK! ORNK! ORNK!" She cried and then slid over the side. A moment later, her head popped up a hundred yards hence, and a flipper waved a 'come hither'. And like that, we spun about. I vanished off below, to rummage through the galley for something bloody to eat, and sulk about my foot. Illus, seeing the sun come up, had vanished below, for comforts sake. He can handle sunlight, but it's not exactly comfortable. More than perhaps ten or fifteen minutes and his skin starts peeling. Which left Vixen, Vaul, Elf and Tyrone to see to the sails, and the helm. Or at least it would have done had Vixen not come down to see to me.
Fortuneately Tyrone at least knows how to handle a ship at sea. Vixen caught me before I opened the door to the fridge with my teeth. We dragged out a couple of bags of mince. She tipped them into my bowl, and carried it through to the cabin for me. I wolfed it down and then curled up to sleep. Wakening was interesting. I almost panicked for a minute. There was something restraining my movements. I kicked and flailed for a moment, before realising it was a blanket. And that Vixen was lying behind me, her arms around my chest. My struggles must have woke her, cause she loosened her grip. "How's the paw?" She whispered softly, and I wriggled free, and hopped to my feet. It didn't take me too long to convince her my leg was fine. Acourse, my cheek still stung like buggery where the Selchie had belted me. After a moment to let Vixen stand, I trotted alongsides her, up onto the deck. Tyrone was still at the helm, and the sun was beginning to sink. Seeing us coming up he laughed. "'Bout time my relief showed up." He gestured at Elf and Vaul, "These landlubbers don't know the first thing about sailing the seas." We grinned. Have you ever seen a Wolf, or even a dog, grin? It bares more fangs than most people are comfortable seeing. Tyrone of course had no problem with this. He's been hanging out with us far too long. As for Muirgen, then dragging herself up from the dive platforms on the stern, she responded with a grin of her own.
He gestured at Vixen. "I'm going below. I need a bite an' a drink an' a nap. Muirgen will let you know if you be off course." Vixen took the helm, seated on the bench behind the great wheel. And I sat behind her, a big, fluffy, toothy pillow. Muirgen proceeded to direct us, flopping from side to side to signal which way to steer. After a short while, Elf and Vaul headed down below. Still no sight of our goal. Illus came up shortly after dark, to find Vixen and I sort of singing. Well. She was singing, and I was howling. Old sea songs, from our last time here. Rude ones mostly. The best sort. Shame we had no booze, but then again, we were headed into battle against the worst sort of witch. The wind turned, a scent caught my nose. I sniffed. Salt. and Rot. The smell of the coast. I looked at Muirgen and whined. She nodded. Vixen looked between us, and then spun the wheel, bringing us about till the wind locked us in irons. As the ship came to a stop, she gestured at me to hold the wheel, and she and Illus went to drop the sails. And weigh the anchor. We would wait. Attack at noon. Illus, weakest of us all at that time, would stay to watch the boat. Elf and Vaul would stay with him.
We slept till the dawn, and then made our preparations. We had little in the way of firearms with us. But even if we had, the entrance, according to Muirgen was underwater. Our standard firearms wouldn't fire underwater. On the other hand, blades would work fine, as would fang and claw. We had SCUBA gear designed for werefolk. The regulator straps over the top of the muzzle, and covers the nostrils. You breath through your nose, and it leaves your mouth free to fight. The hoses and tanks are armoured, and we even have fins designed for canine feet. The masks are more like goggles, but the BCD is standard, and in the warm Carribean seas, we wouldn't even need wetsuits. Tyrone too, had SCUBA gear, although his was closer to a standard set. Dive knives we each carried, and a few spear-guns for fishing. And we all carried better blades for surface fighting. In Tyrone's case, he had a Norse style broadsword, a one-handed job, and his Shillelagh. Vixen had a cutlass, along with one of her favoured Saex. And I carried a short-handled, wide-bladed boarding axe. I would need no other weapons. I probably wouldn't even need that. I began to shift back towards Human, stopping when I was half and half. Vixen did the reverse, shifting towards her fox, till she too was half and half. We donned our gear, and as the sun neared it's zenith, slid into the water, joining the Sidhe and the Silkie.