you were out sailing upon the seas of the great marrows, it was dark out, the fog blotting out nearly anything visible... except... for a small light seen within the distance. you step out of your small ship's cockpit and onto the deck, you could vaugley make out the shape of another ship, you go back and without thinking, decide to set off your ship's horn, either out of boredom or just curious to see how the other angler would react... the ship promply stops, and starts approaching...