Chapter X: THE FIRST STEP OF MANYThe screech-like cry of the seagulls rent the air.
“They laugh at me,” Witon remarked acerbically, shading his eyes with his hand as he followed the flight of the ocean fowl above the glittering sea.
“No, My Lord, they send ye a bon voyage,” said Persky, looking up at Witon, the adoration blatant in his slanted eyes.
The sun sparked off the ocean, the wind playfully nipping at it, making small, lively waves upon its surface. The pungent, briny scent of it invaded Witon's nostrils and his adrenaline soared with the promise of the quest.
He stood at the very edge of the long dock, unable to move his gaze from the beautiful vessel bobbing gently upon low waves.
“She's not big, sir, but she's quite beautiful,” Persky said as if reading Witon's mind.
Witon
