The sailors spotted a dog swimming in the middle of the sea. As they drew closer, their world turned upside down at the sight
His fingers trembled, but not from the cold. He pressed a blanket against the dogs back, as if tucking in a child. The smell of wet fur mixed with metal, iodine, and old dieselthe true scent of the deck and the life they were trying to save.
Andrew stood, staring at the horizon. The wind whipped straight into his face, his hair plastered to his forehead. He felt the vibration of the ship beneath his feet, the grumble of the old engine deep below, the cold iron railing under his fingers.
Everything inside him screamed, *Dont get involved, dont risk it!* But this dog looked at them with eyes that made even the fiercest storms seem quiet by comparison. Michael wiped his face and nodded at the collar.
Faded letters spelled out a single name: *Biscuit*. “Shes not here by accident,” he rasped, swallowing hard. “She wasnt just tossed by the waves.” But Nicholas nodded, stroking the soggy muzzle.
She wasnt just wanderingshe was heading *somewhere*. Someone was waiting for her. Daniel sighed, crouching down to meet the dogs gaze.
“Whatre you trying to tell us, girl? Whats out there?” he asked, but the dog only lifted her head and stared into the distance again. The icy wind whipped up foam, stealing their breath. Waves slammed against the hull with a hollow boom.
Drips of water hit the metal like tiny bells, merging into a deep, resonant huma question no one could answer. Andrew took a step back, glancing at the crew.
“We saved her,” he said hoarsely. “Thats enough. We should stay on course.”
But Daniel just shook his head. Michael looked away. And Nicholas, hugging the dog, murmured, “But we dont know yet who shes leading us to.”
The words hung in the air like a warning of something far bigger. None of them guessed then that this dog would bring them to the edge of life and death.
Biscuit jolted awake as if someone had flicked a switch. She lunged forward before Nicholas could grab her collar. Her soaked fur clung to her sides, her breath ragged, her eyes burning with an odd light. She strained toward the railing, tugging so hard Nicholas nearly stumbled onto the deck.
“Easy, easy,” he murmured, holding her close, feeling her trembling in his arms, her heart pounding like it wanted to burst free. Daniel hurried over with a mug of hot soup.
Steam curled into the chilly air, mixing with the sharp scent of saltwater. “Here, girl, eat something!” He held the mug near her muzzle, but Biscuit didnt even glance at it. She scrabbled toward the railing again, her claws screeching against the metal like a knife through fabric.
Andrew stepped closer, squinting. The wind slapped his face, as if daring him to walk away. “Whys she so desperate to get there?” he asked, his voice unsteady before hardening. “Has she lost her mind?”
Michael stood a few paces back, hands stuffed in his pockets, lips pressed tight, his gaze locked on the horizon. He said nothing, but inside, a storm ragedone he was afraid to name.
Nicholas stroked the dogs head, her fur still cold and prickly with seawater. “Shes not just being stubborn. Lookshe keeps staring *that* way.” He pointed toward the murky horizon. “She *knows* something. Maybe someones waiting out there.”
Daniel crouched beside him, setting the mug down. Steam from the soup twisted upward, vanishing into the damp air. He touched the dogs damp flank and whispered, “Girl, whos left out there? Your owner? Or someone else? You didnt swim all this way for nothing, did you?”
Biscuit let out a low, mournful howl, as if telling a story she couldnt put into words. The sound rolled across the deck, swallowed by the fog and the groaning waves.
Michael finally spoke through gritted teeth. “We cant just ignore this. If shes willing to go back into the storm, theres somethingor someoneworth more than her life out there.”
Andrew turned away, watching the rising waves. Salt stung his skin, leaving a bitter taste on his lips. He dragged a hand over his face, as if trying to erase the whole scene. “We should stay on course,” he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.
Daniel took a sip from the mug, the heat burning his throat, but he didnt flinch. “I remember a story,” he said, watching Biscuit. “When I was a lad, a sheepdog jumped into a river after its owner. The bloke drowned, but that dog swam for three days, following the current. No one could stop her. She just *believed*.” He looked at Andrew. “This one believes too. Enough to leap back into death.”
Biscuit howled againlouder, sharper, like a soul crying out. Nicholas held her tight, feeling her legs shake, her warm breath against his neck.
Michael stepped closer, resting a hand on Andrews shoulder. “You always say the sea doesnt forgive weakness. Well, maybe *shes* the strong one youve been waiting for.”
Andrew spun around, locking eyes with the dog. Her gaze burned right through him. No fearjust a silent plea and iron resolve. He inhaled, the cold air searing his lungs, the scent of wet fur mingling with fuel.
“And what do you suggest?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
Nicholas nodded toward the horizon. “We check.”
