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The downpour lulls him to sleep, but he awakens at the frantic pounding on his cabin door. He's half-naked but he chooses to don on his coat over loose sleeping pants before grabbing the lantern. He jerks the door open, sleepy eyes narrowed into a glare. "What."
A member of his crew stands before him, eyes wide but not from the fear of waking the captain. "Cap'n-" the rain nearly drowns out the older man's words. It's still pouring, raindrops splashing against his cheek with the chill seeping into his bones. "What- spit it out. It's freezing." Feyd-Rautha raises the lantern, looking over the man's shoulder to see most of his crew huddled around something.
The man shakes his head. "I think it's best if ye see it for yerself, cap'n." The man steps aside, letting Feyd-Rautha pass through.
The murmuring dies down, with the crew making way for him as he nears with his lantern—and comes to a standstill.
It's eerily quiet now, nothing but the heavy rain filling the silence. Feyd-Rautha finds himself speechless, too, eyeing the alluring creature before him.
Pale skin, wavy brown hair that brushes along bony shoulders, shivering from the cold of the rain ( or from the crew's gaze ) as it hugs itself.
"The men found it clinging to the anchor line, cap'n. They say it's a mermaid-" the whispering starts again, agreeing to the statement, "cast out by the sea."
Feyd-Rautha doesn't see a tail, just curled toes attached to feet and skinny legs tucked under itself. The captain hums, squatting until he's eye level with the creature.
"Is that true?" He questions quietly, knows the creature hears him when it perks up at the sound of his voice. He reaches for it. It flinches but it doesn't pull away—not yet. Feyd-Rautha cups its cheeks, long fingers grazing something cold and inhuman on the side of its neck. Gills maybe?
"What do we call you?" He questions, bringing the lantern closer until he sees nothing but pretty blue eyes and pink lips. He sees it swallow, clears its throat, understands.
"Paul."