Aumakua

The hungry gods cut through the salty waves, sleek gray forms with basalt eyes. They were small gods, with a small place in the world. They had no temples, but only the half-hearted scraps of their Family's worship.

It was enough.

They circled the boat where the dark man, the Other, bent now over the fallen form of the Family's youngest daughter. He paid the gods no mind. He thought they had come for the girl's blood in the water.

And so they had.

They scraped the boat's sides with sandpaper skin. It tasted of vengeance.

Tonight, the gods would feast.