The journey through the western sea was a strangely quiet one, the skies were clear and the weather was good, a stroke of luck at the height of spring.
Dulce's quarters on the ship remained empty, meal times the main reason they gathered on the deck, otherwise everyone seemed content to stay in their quarters.
A week passed without event and after ten days into the journey, a terrible storm crashed into the ship. It turned the clear skies a gloomy gray, storm clouds filling up the skies with lightning in their bellies.
The passengers were hastily sent below deck, the shiphands dashing around to prepare for the oncoming storm.
Dulce had been seated on his favorite barrel when the storm started rolling in, they didn't need to eat so often, usually only going for dinner so they hadn't been on the deck with the other passengers milling around after lunch.
