"Iꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ sᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ sᴀʏ I ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴ ʏᴏᴜ.
Mᴀʏʙᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰɪsʜsᴛɪᴄᴋ Tᴏʀɪɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ᴜsᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴀᴛ."
Rolling waves faded into the distance, their ever-present sound finally fading as the density of the jungle encompassed Twig's horizons. Here, sunlight streamed through only the thinnest spaces between rustling palm leaves, slats of solar energy sucked up by the underbrush. Vines wove their way between the rough palm trunks, making the challenge of finding a pathway nearly impossible. It was a good thing he brought a compass, along with his map. Mermaid cove sounded incredible, but he'd have to get there first.
Nearly an hour after setting off, the island seemed different. Something about the darkness here was imposing and for the young kit, making the journey on his own was perhaps not his wisest choice. He was short, which allowed him to move through smaller spaces than others, ducking below vines and slipping under patches of dancing brush. But it was so quiet. The wind, the occasional, distant bird call. His own footsteps beneath him.
"Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red..." he began singing to himself, his voice swallowed up by the thicket around. "...who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead!"
The tune was simple, from a game he'd sunk nearly 100 hours into, probably. But it was so easy to get wrapped up in the fantasy world of Skyrim. Just like he was wrapped in the jungle here. Sure, the terrain was different, but the idea was the same. On the other side of this jungle, he had the real chance to meet something incredible. If he really got to see mermaids... wouldn't it be like a fantasy? His dad had told him about a strange occurrence years ago, when he was working as a kamp counselor. Apparently, one of the counselors had completely vanished, and most of the others were convinced he was really some sort of cryptid. Even his dad had believed it. Was it true, then? Was there magic in this world?
It was possible Shark was tricking him, teasing him with the name of a place that had a cove in the shape of a mermaid's tail, or something. But the way he'd made it sound... he was sure of it. They had to be real. And if they were, he was going to find them.
The journey became a bit easier with the adventuring tune and spark in his heart. He'd played sheriff and outlaw on the beach. Now, he was the Dragonborn, crossing the great land of Skyrim to find... mermaids? Dragons? Who knew?
"And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no moooooree... AHHH!"
Twig leaped in surprise, a giant scaled beast leaping out from the forest and-- an iguana. No. Wait. A dragon! Suddenly his eyes alight, he clutched his driftwood walking stick and raised his blade to the beast. "Stay back! FUS RO DAH!" he shouted, charging at it. The dragon was gone almost instantly, racing across the ground and away under a flurry of island leaves.
"Haha!" Twig cheered. "No one messes with the Dragonborn!" Whooping in delight, he darted ahead down the path, adrenaline running high from his fright in the forest. And then he saw it.
Light, first. A break in the trees.
Then it expanded. His eyes shone with the light of the ocean, the smell of the sea mingling with the jungle and the pleasant rolling of waves overtaking the breeze through the palms. His feet pounded against the jungle floor, crackling leaves and brush as he thundered forward.
"This is it!" he hollered joyously, raising his stick high above his head as he broke through the jungle and stood above the cove. A laugh of pure delight and a smile that could light a fire beamed in the wonder of this new place. Never in his life had he been someplace like this. And now he was here... this was real, not a game. This was real.
