Nobody fears the mention of our names, and last we were in port, not even the lowliest of wenches would pay us any mind. We resolved, then and there, to only return once we had become swaggering buccaneers, wealthy enough to demand respect.
But our remaining food was rotting... along with our hopes... as we continued to sail the seas, desperate to encounter another vessel... desperate for the glint of golden treasure against the unforgiving Caribbean sun.
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