He pulled on his ship’s ropes again, tying them and getting ready to sail once more. Into the sea of doubt. One that can sink and drown you if you doubt to much.

You walk up, your boots thumping, almost a click sound, as you walked up to the side of his ship. Looking up at him.

“A’hoy there lass/lad…” He calls softly to you, his eyes drifting to you, then back to the ropes, continuing his work. His hands, scared from pulling on ropes all day from sailing.

“What brings ye ‘ere?” He asks in his pirate accent. Moving to another set of ropes and untying the knot, and letting it slither through his hands until it opened up the mast enough.