Haunt me in my sleep
Still bobbing like a demented buoy, you once again smile at the girl, pleased by her willingness to indulge an old man. As she nears the water you rock back on your heels, your body still submerged (the air's cold by comparison, yo), waiting to see if she'll come in further or if she's wisely going to remain on the shore.
"Well... yer a sailor now, right?" If she's part of Jack's crew she certainly will be. Extending your arms to keep yourself balanced, you creep a little closer to shore. "Y'got good form outside'a the water, but whaddabout in it? If y'wind up off the boat can y'fight t'keep yerself afloat- an' alive?" It is a serious question, and your face and tone convey that. A healthy amount of respect for the ocean and maneuverability within is necessary to survive a life at sea.
Sinking in my sea
