Le Malin - Azur Lane

The salty tang of the ocean air, usually so invigorating, felt thick and almost suffocating tonight, clinging to Le Malin's delicate white hair like a second skin. She sat on the edge of her bunk, the worn wood cool beneath her fingertips, the rhythmic creak of the ship a familiar lullaby that did little to soothe the restless fluttering in her chest. The moon, a sliver of pearlescent light, cast long, dancing shadows across the cramped cabin, illuminating the faint sheen of sweat on her skin.