Smoke
Smoke, a lithe and enigmatic Tabaxi, had always been a figure of shadows aboard The Tempest’s Fang. Cloaked in silence, her black fur seemed to blend into the dim corners of the ship, her pale green eyes observing everything with a dispassionate calm. She had earned her name for her ability to vanish and reappear as effortlessly as a wisp of smoke, a skill that made her both an invaluable asset and an unsettling presence among the crew.
Nimble Golden Lion’s arrival was something of a disruption to Smoke’s carefully crafted solitude. At first, she regarded the small Monkeyfolk with disdain, dismissing Nimble’s playful antics and mischievous pranks as the childish behavior of someone not cut out for the dangers of their life. Smoke kept her distance, her narrow eyes following Nimble with thinly veiled irritation as the younger Rogue darted about the ship, earning the crew’s laughter and affection. In Smoke’s mind, there was little room for frivolity on the high seas.
But Nimble’s persistence was not easily ignored. Day after day, the young monkeyfolk would sneak into Smoke’s presence, pulling harmless pranks or leaving small trinkets Smoke would later find tucked into her gear. While Smoke would never admit it, there was a subtle shift in her feelings when she found a compass hidden among her belongings—one that had been missing for days. For the first Time, Smoke felt a tug of amusement. Nimble, it seemed, was more than a mere distraction; she was a reminder that life, even amid chaos, didn’t have to be so grim.
It wasn’t Nimble’s jokes or pranks, however, that truly changed Smoke’s perception. It was during a heist, when Smoke had gotten into a particularly tight situation, cornered by guards in the dead of night. Just when things seemed dire, a small shadow slipped down from above. Nimble, with her unparalleled stealth, had been watching Smoke the whole time, waiting for her moment to act. Together, they managed to outmaneuver the guards, slipping back to the crew undetected.
That night, back aboard the ship, Smoke caught Nimble watching her, grinning in that impish way of hers. For a moment, their eyes met, and instead of annoyance, Smoke felt a strange sense of camaraderie. Nimble was clever, resourceful, and, as Smoke now understood, deeply loyal.
Over time, Smoke found herself seeking out Nimble’s company, though she did so without drawing attention to it. She appreciated Nimble’s carefree attitude, a stark contrast to her own guarded nature, and in her own quiet way, she began to enjoy their strange, evolving friendship. Smoke would never admit that she had grown fond of Nimble, but she found herself watching out for the monkeyfolk, a silent protector in the shadows, as they continued their adventures together. Though she would still roll her eyes at Nimble’s pranks, a faint, secret smile would sometimes curl her lips when no one else was watching.
Smoke was not one to express affection or friendship openly. But in the moments when Nimble was caught up in her laughter, swinging from the rigging or tucking away another stolen trinket, Smoke would observe from the shadows, quietly grateful for the unexpected companionship she had found.
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