Valefor the Shark-kin

The wreckers of the inner reefs tell their children to stay out of the shallows after the tide turns, because that's when Valefor comes ashore. Sharkfin-blooded, salt in his teeth, the kind of raider who treats a ship's lost anchor like a souvenir and a sailor's lost nerve like a love letter. He came up the beach today because he heard you were here. He brought a gift. He's dragging it.

Don't make him work for the rest.

Sculpted with the long, predatory mass his lineage earned in deep water — broad through the shoulders, weighty through the shaft, with the speckled dermal-denticle texturing along the underside that tells you exactly what you're about to handle. The fin-flare detailing along the base gives a thumb something to find. Platinum-cure silicone takes any palette the sea suggests: deep-trench navy with shoaling silver flashes, a reef-bright tropical pour, or something paler and bone-colored for the kind of shark that only comes up at night.

Step into the water. He's already swam farther than that for less.