: Sitting on the hook, resting their feet on my ceiling, my seahorses gracefully glides through the hauntingly beautiful ruins of a sunken ship, its delicate body weaving in and out of centuries old rusted beams and forgotten treasures. The ship's once mighty hull is now just home to vibrant marine life that grows on the ship. Ancient cannons and broken mast poles are explored in the silent world beneath the waves by the seahorse which dance s around.

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