AN: I do not own Once Upon A Time, nor do I own any of the canon characters I write for fun, please don't sue me.
Water that was her first thought, she was surrounded by water. It lapped at her clothing hungrily, seeming to want to consume her. Storms boiled in the clouds above but somehow the moon shown through as bright as it ever was. It seemed to watch her, coldly, expectantly. She tried to tread the water beneath her, search for a ship or some debris. All she wanted to do was survive, to beat the hungry water. The moon seemed to laugh, to chide her forward, but secretly snicker at her futile efforts. Her eyes scanned the rolling waves, desperate to find something that could save her, break the water's hold. Her eyes would fool her finding a seemingly solid object, and upon reaching a hand to grab such sights, she found there only to be water and liquid where lifesaving objects had been. She screamed in frustration, tears falling and adding their bitter salt to the sea surrounding ocean gnashed and moaned, twirling and spinning Nyahm within its clutches. Then sudden pain, a hurt in her side, halting her efforts to fight as she gasped to fill her winded lungs. Hands scrabble against splintering wood, and despite bleeding fingers she grabbed on holding the life bearing board close. The moon seemed to chuckle at her success, seeming to know what was coming, that the triumph that seemed so big now was merely a small detour and she still had to face much to come.
As she clung to the board salt burned her eyes, and even the tears she shed could not purify them. Half blind, she felt the water rise beneath her, ever hungry ever pulling. There is white froth surrounding her, glowing like bone in the light of the moon. Death surrounded her as she clung to the small bit of life, knowing it wouldn't hold forever. The wave crested and her blind eyes saw the wreckage before her. Blood scent burned through the scent of salt, the wolf wanting to howl at the loss. The sole thing remaining of the Jolly Roger was the slowly sinking mast, the waves having swallowed everything else, she could only pray the others had made it to the life boats but the moon's cruel gaze seemed to give her the answer. A scream bubbled up and this time, she couldn't hold it back, it burst forth in a feral rush, not human nor wolf but some creature that only knew loss and pain. Her father had drown, the only family she had ever known- his crew- gone. And no way to mourn, no way to find closure, the ocean had even taken that. There was no way to put them at peace. With her unleash of pain, the skies darkened again, a flash of lightning struck the mast, sending wood splintering in all directions. The sharp bite of pain within her arm reminded her that she was alive, not in some purgatory of emotional pain. But how she wished for the abyss of black, of this hell at sea to be over and done. She gritted her teeth, this was not what her father had taught her, he would want her to live, to continue his work, his need for vengeance. She had no right to give up not now, she had defied the moon before why not now.
Nyahm shudders, the ocean's freezing bite chilling her skin, her anger came too late to warm her. The wolf wished for its fur, and Nyahm wished she could give in to that wish. But the moon was not on her side tonight, jeering at her from above. She could only hope she could last until the sun's rays, let its power light her body and warm her moon chilled skin. She glared at the moon, challenging it to do its worst. The skies responded with flashes, rain lashed her face, but it refreshed her as well. The scent of new rain brought with it the scent of land, cleared away the burning of the salt. This storm released something primal within her, and this time instead of a scream a laugh erupted. Her eyes glared up at the moon defiantly, just a few mere hours until the sun brought with it new hope. The moon grows larger, as the storm picks up intensity blotting out the stars above, seeming to nibble away at her hope, showing its strength in the face of a mere mortal. She knew that she couldn't win, in the very back of her mind, the water would take her, eventually but every pirate knew that and they could only pray that it waited until their time.
A light to the east brings hope, the moon had passed its zenith, daybreak was near and with it the hope of finding land and survivors. Frozen fingers gripped the board, hoping to survive, the strength renewed. But then a wave whips forth from the depths of the sea. It pulls at her, tearing fingers from wood, dragging flesh painfully from the grasp of a chance at life. It pushes her down, deep into the eddying abyss. The sun's rays follow her, dancing across bubbles, gold and silver adding to the black. A flash, a hand on hers dragging her away from the depths, snap fangs closing upon it as two wolves circle her, driving back a man with a sea green beard and the nymphs around him. They dance around her protecting her, but her descent among the bubbles continues. Then, no more bubbles, and one final feral scream to which the wolves add their howls as the trio drifts lower, deeper toward black.