The soft waves bump against the mahogany of the massive sail ship. I feel the constant rippling of tides the pull and push. I look up at the pale moon and dream of a time long forgotten. A time where the sea was vast and unknown and the murky depths held many graves. The days of behemoth octopi and golden teeth. I dream of the salt water in the air early in the morning as I stab upon the boardwalk and the see the black flag. I wish for combat I even lust for it without combat there is no fun and without fun what is the point in a ever consuming sea.
