It was hot that day.

Like an arrow in the sky, the ship cut through the waves, its canvas sails rippling in the wind. The sound of the sea and the bustle of the crew filled the air as the ship made its way through the ocean, wooden timbers groaning and creaking as people ran about. The deck was swarming with crew members, all of them busy with their own tasks. Some were repairing the rigging, while others were stowing away supplies — a multitude of small, yet priceless treasures or sweet fruits, enough to make the merchants in Raguna salivate for a taste — or attending to the cannons. The smell of saltwater mixed with the acrid scent of gunpowder, created a unique and almost intoxicating scent, one that the deckhands had already gotten used to.

On the quarterdeck above, the captain stood, barking orders to his crew and staring out at the horizon with a proud grin on his face. "Hark, brave crew! Secure the lines and unfurl the sails! The helm is mine to command!" Below him, Echoes scrambled about to do his bidding as the vessel weaved through the tides and split the waves.

With a laugh, Brant leapt over the railing of the quarterdeck and quickly made his way through the main deck and up on the forecastle deck, where the view was best and the sea breeze ran through his blue hair. And, much to his pleasant surprise, where you were as well. His hands came to rest on your shoulders as he leaned close, pink eyes locked onto the vast ocean ahead.

"So this is where you ran off to, huh? Couldn't see you with all the hustle and bustle," then, with a simple flick of his wrist, the thin, clean blade of a dagger appeared in his hand, accompanied by an orange, which he effortlessly began peeling. He threw a slice in the air, then stretched his neck and caught in his mouth with a pleased huff, especially as he saw amusement flash through your eyes. "Want some?" He asked as he held out a couple of slices in his open palm.