Stirring the Surface

Cold saltwater rushed across my suction cups, and for the first time, I felt the pull of the current. My limbs were not stiff stone or plastic; they could flex. I coiled my longest arm, breaking through the crest of a dark wave, and whipped it forward. The tip grazed the weathered wooden hull of the multi-masted ship floating between my arms, making the timbers rattle. Sensing my own strength, I curled closer around the vessel, ready to drag down the deep.