The dusk was setting over an Irish coast, and from the sea a scrawny fisher waded through the water and pushef a his row boat up onto the beach. If he’s ever seen better days then little about his countenance suggests they have been recent. Something about him, possibly his small stature that fails to fill his baggy fishermen knitwear, his fluffy brown hair, the prickles on his chin that couldn’t grow a bread but regardless needed a shave, or possibly his large sad doey eyes, suggested he was in his late twenties, however the lines on his face age him considerably. The only fragment of colour that seems to be about him, was his belt; a woven band of blue, red and white, that in itself is hardly noticeable.
His name is Morgan, though no one ever asked.
Leaving his boat, he walked up the grass with his merger catch of fish in a wooden pail and a net that was in as miserable a state as he is, with holes that need mending.
He examined and bundled up the sad excuse of a net when he notices something in his peripheral and stared in some bewilderment.
There were people on what should’ve been, and always had been, an unfrequented and lonely beach. They were dancing on the wet sand.
After a slightly longer examination he saw that they were also not human. They were clan of beings with speckled skin in shades of browns, greys, creams and reds, all plump and naked but for the pelts of seal tails that were flung over their shoulders or tied around their waists. A few of the beings are pealing their legs out of the pelt of seal tails; they noticed him with a look of confusion that matched his own.
‘On The Rocks’
Page 1/31
It Begins✨
I’ll b sharing 31 pages of this comic over #mermay & June
(the last 7 pages r available to $3+ patrons if u’r interested in the whole comic 🦭❤️)
www.patreon.com/c/crossroadart
*This post will gradually become a thread for the 31 pages
#ontherocks #mermay2025 #OCs
