SF Drabble #82 “Hunting on New Arctica”

The spinnaker was full, bulging out in front of the Blackwing. The boat sped across the ice, faster than Jink had ever gone in his life. He kept his face pressed to the telescope, which offered at least a little protection from the cold wind.

“There!” he cried, and pointed. It was only a spot on the horizon, hard to see even through the scope.

No one asked if he was sure: Jink had been hired for his excellent eyesight. Blackwing was already tacking, weapons being quickly unpacked. One fully grown White Elephant would feed the village for a month.

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