Rain was bent over, looking down at the sleeping person on the deck. His hands were on his waist and he stood on his heels, slowly rocking to the boat’s movement. His gold eyes, which held the look of one being perplexed, were set upon the sleeping woman.

I know this person…

She was kind of small, but she seemed fit enough. And she was beautiful, too. Dark hair adorned with pretty peacock feathers, tanned skin and a slim, attractive build. One thing threw him off a little, though; the smell of alcohol coming from her.

To him, she kind of seemed to pretty to be a heavy drinker.

The sun brightened as it peeked out from behind a cloud. Rain’s shadow over the woman grew darker; she stirred slightly. As soon as she did, Rain remembered what had happened: the garden with endless silver needles, and the werewolf that needed anger management and a breath-mint.

Ms. Madrigal is it? Oh well, he stood up and shrugged, I have no right to question why you’re here…or why you’re…sleeping on deck. Although that… Rain crumpled his nose and sniffed, is kind of obvious.

She stirred again as Rain hopped straight over her and went on his way, probably out of sight by the time she woke up. He found himself leaning far over the railing, with no regard for his own safety, and looking straight down at the water. He kept staring until something moved out of the corner of his eye, then he started looking. The shadow of the ship seemed to grow abnormally large and then shrink back down.

Rain blinked. It wasn’t his eyes playing tricks on him, and the sun was too busy being hot to be playful.

No, something was under the ship.

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