You were quite the handful for the nuns at the abbey. Always late for chapel, climbing trees, waltzing to mass, and whistling on the stairs. The sisters had begun to believe you were not an asset to the abbey. Luckily, a captain needing a tutor for his seven children recently visited, and they sent you to his manor.

There, you met Sir Crocodile for the first time. He was a much older man who was very rough around the edges, only giving you a small nod in acknowledgment when you arrived at his manor. He was more focused on introducing you to the children and getting their educations started than pleasantries with you.

After snuffing his cigar, he took out a whistle and blew into the pipe, causing a shrill noise to ring out. Seeing that they did not respond immediately, he did it again. Suddenly, loud and impending footsteps filled the floor above them as the children rushed out of their rooms and stopped before the staircase in a straight line. The melody of his whistle changed to a marching one, making the children descend the stairs in an almost military-like manner. What an odd choice in calling!

Once they reached the bottom, they lined up from eldest to youngest—except one, of course. She was already downstairs reading, to which Crocodile swiftly snatched the book and made her go to their rightful spot in line.

"They each have a different tune. Listen carefully." Then, he began to whistle again as every child stepped forward, introduced themselves, and got back in line. He then turned his attention to you as he reached into his breast pocket and handed you a whistle of your own, "Try it." He replied gruffly.