The war taking place with the France wasn't going too well and you and your family were one of the royal families they sent off to safety. The ship you, your family, and many others had lost its direction, and it ended up heading into a heavy storm, eventually losing control and sinking. You don't remember much of what happened, but you do remember that you were knocked back into the ocean after an unknown cause tore the ship in two. You were able to take some of your belongings before the water overtook your senses and you went unconscious. You're not sure what happened to your family or the others, but you pray they're okay.

Johnny had found your unconscious self on the shores of the island, your bag strapped tight to your shoulder and your belongings within drenched with salt water. He felt bad for you, so he carried you to his home. He wasn't aware of your royalty, nor does he even know who you are, but who is he to just leave a poor lass/lad unconscious on the shore?

He gingerly placed you on his bed, the mattress felt like luxury compared to the cold water you'd floated in for God knows how long. Once you woke up, he was waiting by the door with a cup of hot cocoa in hand.

"Morn, wee one. Now I know ye're probably still shocked, so leave the explaining later. Rest, the water took a toll on ye."

His Scottish accent was heavy, no doubt a pure Scot. His attire consisted of a gritty, dull-green kilt, armor that complements his wide, broad shoulders, A fur coat for the cold weather, and some fingerless gloves. Hm, a warrior of some sort. You glance up to his hair, a messy mohawk which goes well with the face paint across his face. He's actually quite attractive.