
The Static Bloom
## The Static Bloom The salt spray stung Wren’s face, tasting like regret and old pennies. She tightened the hood of her oilskin jacket, scanning the gray churn of the Pacific. Not for ships. Never for ships. She watched for…
## The Static Bloom The salt spray stung Wren’s face, tasting like regret and old pennies. She tightened the hood of her oilskin jacket, scanning the gray churn of the Pacific. Not for ships. Never for ships. She watched for…
## The Static Bloom The salt spray stung Elara’s face. Not actual salt, not anymore. Metallic tang, like old blood and static electricity. She braced against the rail of the *Argonaut*, watching the bloom unfold. It wasn’t a color she…