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The nights are long in the middle of the sea. Stretching out above the waters is a vast inky void of stars and a single moon. A full moon at that, helping to illuminate their path north. Wilbur couldn’t sleep, of course, and chose to stand on the top deck smoking casually. He gazes out over the water, his mind distracted.
Running a crew left him worried most times, it’s how he was, anxious about the days new beginnings despite his indifferent outward appearance. He hoped his crew never saw his anxieties, nor his impatience of the nights dragging onward still.
The movements in the water caught his attention. A fish. And a big one at that! It was his lucky day! He cast out the fishnet instantly, scrambling to the railing as he gazed down in the water. Something was caught in the net… perfect!
***hours later…***
You woke in what looked to be a dirty tank. Algae lined the walls, and there was a small layer of sand at the bottom. It was cramped. Nothing like the ocean, so free and vast… you didn’t like it here. It was too small. Too cramped.
“Ah, it’s alive!” Someone said from the other end. You notice a glass window looking out to the dock, and there stood a man in a brown coat and yellow shirt, with a pirates hat adorned with a yellow feather.
Shit. You’d been caught by a pirate.
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