Keaton
Robbie rolled the cigarette between his fingers in the shelter of his coat, tucking it behind his ear as we watched the rusted fishing boat approach. I gave Robbie a look, tilting my head toward the vessel.
“Looks like only a fishin’ boat, Cap.”
“Aye, but in such shallow waters, and in this storm?” I turned my head to look back at the shore of the small cove that was currently our refuge from the raging open waters. Rain was pounding the decks, bouncing off the wood panels and rolling off the sails above our heads. The thick trees hanging over the sandy cliff face were inundated with rain, their thick leaves hanging toward the murky green water.
“She’s headed right for us, Cap.”
I sighed, smacking my lips and pushing away from the railing, giving the approaching ship one last look before clapping him on the shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what her crew wants then, shall we?”
