The young man known as Red had found a rare opportunity for relaxation. Even in his own quietness, the bustle of the world around him never stopped to take a break, and it was endlessly tiring. He had even taken off his trademark red pirate jacket, with the printed black skull on the back, the sleeves of his white ruffled shirt rolled up to just below his elbows.
He sat, calmly perched in the dusty white sand, staring out at the ocean. It was not a stare of contemplation, nor of longing, but rather, a stare of wonder. For no matter how many times he sailed the ocean, peering out at its infinite blue waters, he knew he would never be able to see it all, and the idea bothered him ever so slightly. He was too young to have fully grasped the idea of his mortality and relative lifespan, and since he thought he was human, he felt so old at such a young age.
So old, and unaccomplished.
One looking might spot that look in his uncovered eye. The pain of loss, grief, self-loathing, and general regret played across his handsome young features like a stage show for all to see. Or at least, all who looked.
His fingers were curled around the cover of his black journal, his knuckles white, further alluding to his stress. Lost in though, he didn't even notice someone approaching...
