Kya watched with horror. Her wings were soaked, and even if she could fly, they would become little more than tatters of color streaming out from her back in a storm such as this.
She reached out as a streak of silver went tumbling past her, and managed to catch hold of it before Hearthorne fell away. She cradled the bowl to her chest and looked desperately for a place to wait out the storm. Now that she wasn’t holding on to anything, she fell and tumbled with the motions of the ship and the storm until Kya wasn’t sure which way was up or down.
Eventually, she made it to the small hatch on the deck. The door had come open, and was straining at its hinges as it flapped in the wind. Clutching Hearthorne, Kya half fell, half climbed her way down the ladder.
Water boiled up to her calves when she splashed to the bottom, and she wrinkled her nose against the stench of the saltwater.