"Land ho!" the shriek came from the highest point of the main mast.
Arabella scrambled to capture the view of the land, but it proved to be a difficult task from her position.
Silas, on the other hand, stared ahead in a specific direction, either acutely aware of the exact location of the island, or his elevated sense of sight allowed him the luxury her own eyes denied her.
"Do you see it?" when the question gnawed at her beyond the ability to withstand it, Arabella's tongue betrayed her.
"I do," he said calmly, eyes souldered forward.
"If I may, when was the last time you've set foot on the island?"
"Right after the war," tension crept through his jaws, putting strain on his words.
The young woman had more enquiries on the matter, but the noticeable clenching of his fists and the sudden rigidity that overtook his body advised her to keep them for that time being.
"Come," he ordered as he walked away, "The ship will dock sooner than you might think,"
