Then he swept the bucket from the floor, carrying it to the ship’s edge to pour out. I’d expected a stream of crimson, but the liquid wasn’t red. It was a shade of the darkest green that reminded me of the Voster’s eyes. A shiver crept down my spine. Uh… Shouldn’t that blood be red? The marroweels on the docks had bled red. Why was this one different? Fresh droplets fell from the monster’s snout, splattering on the deck’s boards, a few leaping out toward my slippers. I jumped backward a step before those splatters stained the hem of my dress. After yesterday’s swim, my boots, pants, and tunic
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