The Fox and The Forest (EDITING)

Loose lips sink more than ships (1.8)

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From afar, the ship was of the typical kind. Just another mode of transport across a seemingly endless body of water.

But the closer they came to it, the higher the bow of the ship rose into the sky, acknowledging their approach like a lion puffing out its ragged chest.

Around the splintered ark, small armies of waves attempted to push over the ship. They splashed in desperate suicide against the wooden planks, if you could call them that. For their darkened shiny colour made it clear that they were barely wooden at all.

"Same as usual," Flynn told Kate and Tom, in his happy-go-lucky way.

Where's the normal in riding a carcass of modified wood across a lake? Kate wondered. Her previous almost-transformation into the fox creature had slipped away as a mere memory for now.

Kate thought the tingling on her face had simply been from of her excitement. But then again, she couldn't see the barbed whiskers that were slowly sinking back into her flesh.

Rendered speechless at the sight of the ship, Tom had dropped his watermelon shell to the ground. Now Tom realised why it was that his father had issued so many rules when he was younger. Why he had never been permitted to leave the house between 10pm and 10am. Why he'd been met with a frown of disapproval whenever he asked why his father had to leave so often, sometimes not returning until the day pulled up its cover of night.

Tom's father had been part of something bigger. And now, stood in front of the wooden mass, Tom was unwillingly close to finding out exactly that was. What being a Purifier meant.

*

Meanwhile, Flynn had turned his attention to the melon shell that Tom had dropped in dread. The fruit swayed from side to side, much like the ship itself. Flynn of all people would know. He'd seen the boat enough times and he felt no sudden urge to linger on it for too long. Besides, the real life watermelon was far more interesting to him than the ship made from the ghost of trees.

"Mother of..." Tom shuddered.

"Nature?" Flynn finished, looking over his shoulder back at Tom and chuckling. He was clearly pleased with his play on words. Flynn picked up the watermelon and was now throwing it from hand to hand. But it's owner, Tom, was far too distracted to notice Flynn's preoccupation.

The boy didn't want to look at the ship anymore but there was no way that he could stop. He squinted in order to get a detailed view of it, his head resting against his chin as though his brain could barely contain the information it was taking in. Morbid curiosity had taken hold of him.

As Flynn played with the frewt (as was labelled on the stall) silhouettes moved from behind the melon and caught his attention. The Guards were approaching. The three of them had been motionless for too long.

"Come on then you two," he said, hurriedly pocketing the melon. "The ground'll gobble us up if we stand here any longer!"

Flynn guided them round to the side of the boat. 

Tom's eyes were so glued to the bow that they surely would've leapt out of his eye sockets as he moved, falling into the deep water swashing below him.

As Tom put his left foot onto the bridge, the drawling creak of the plank emphasized the distance between the boat and the water.

"This boat... it's huge," Kate observed from behind Tom. She was simultaneously satisfied that her ticket to uncovering the Purifiers' work was ensured, but also resentful of the government's secrecy.