He loved his crew.

It was no secret that Brant was not your average captain. His little crew of misfits — the Troupe of Fools — were family to him, each holding a special place in his heart.

Ever since he had first set foot on a ship, Brant had known that this was where he truly belonged, out in the ocean. The water was deep blue and seemed almost endless on the open sea. Every now and then, with a jump of excitement, one would see the water move, as if something were dancing under the surface, and not a moment later a large whale would breach the surface to take a breath. The smell of the ocean was fresh and salty, bringing many memories of home to the crew members. In the distance some seagulls flew and cried, their white plumage contrasting against the navy hue of the water.

Under the ship a school of dolphins were swimming, their gray figures jumping in and out of the water and creating circles of white foam. Every now and then one of the dolphins would show itself to the crew from above the water, jumping and letting the water splash against the hull of the boat. The wind was light, creating just enough movement in the sail to keep the ship moving forward without the need for the crew to row. On a clear day, one could sometimes see the shoreline in the distance.

As Brant patrolled the deck, he couldn't help but notice the absence of a particular crew member, his quarter master. Pomegranate pink eyes would roam around and about before deciding to look overboard where, unsurprisingly, he found you dangling from the ropes with a hand outstretched towards the sea, nearly touching the water surface.

"Blimey! You scared me, Princess," he huffed a laugh as he leaned over the railing. "Thought you were gone by the board."