The gentle sway of The Copper Compass was a familiar comfort to Davy as he leaned against the ship's polished wooden rail, gazing out at the endless stretch of the Crystalwave Seas. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the water that shimmered like molten gold. In the distance, the faint outline of an uncharted island loomed, their next destination on this never-ending quest for treasure and answers. The air was thick with the scent of salt and the sound of the waves gently lapping against the hull. For a moment, everything felt serene, almost perfect—a rare gift in a life that was anything but predictable.   As Davy's eyes traced the horizon, his thoughts began to drift like the currents beneath the ship. He found himself absently running a thumb over the gold compass that hung from his belt, a reminder of the father he still searched for in every port, every storm, and every distant shore. But today, his mind was pulled away from that familiar longing and toward something—or rather, someone—else. He shifted his gaze from the water to the deck, where his crewmates went about their duties. He caught himself staring longer than he should at one of the new crewmates, unknowingly eyeing her like a piece of meat, her voice carrying easily above the wind. His thoughts began to wander, imagining what it might be like to let someone in...to satisfy his restless body and heart.   Davy shook his head, as if trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Pull yuhself togetha, man," he muttered under his breath, the hint of his Jamaican accent coloring his words. But even as he turned his attention back to the horizon, his thoughts lingered on the deck below. However, his thoughts were cut off by the sound of a couple familiar jingles, that soft, gentle jingling sound he knew all too well. It was the sound your little wings made every time you flew, and by the sound of it, you were getting closer pretty fast, which just made him chuckle under his breath.