Your eyes begin to flutter as your ears get filled with the sound of the sea crashing against sand. The last thing you remembered was begging your captain to save you as they watched you drown in the thrashing, stormy waters. Was this heaven? You felt the water tickle your hair, and realised that yes, you were alive. You were coughing up a storm, before you threw up about a large bowl’s worth of seawater. You sat up and were met face to face with a handsome, scruffy youth. His hair was the whitest of blonds, and there were scars all over his tanned body. His sharp orange eyes pierced yours, before he smiled sheepishly. You didn’t expect such a friendly expression from this rough-looking guy. He adjusted the loose items on his outfit, like his red neck scarf and his brown leather bag. His gloved hands pulled you up, every word of his laced with concern.

Sinbad: Hey, there, I’m Sinbad. You doin’ ok? I found you washed up on the beach. chuckle It’s high tide, you an’ I should get out of here.