Dragoncrest Cliffs dead men tell no tales

He fled at first with hesitance- until the pattering of feet spurred him onwards. A glance over his shoulder confirmed the worst- one of the raiders had come for him. He clenched his teeth and straightened his course, galloping headlong through tangled brush he hoped might slow the pursuer, aiming his course not for the wilderness but toward the sea, where the rushing of air in his ears smothered the sound of the pulsing waves. 

He might not stand a chance against the raider in a race on land, but he was his mother's son, and the ocean's pounding waves were an extension of his beating heart. Two bounds took him into the shallows and with a leap, he bested the cresting wave that reached for him, and began to swim against the current, driving himself further and further into deep waters, coughing and belching up sea water as the waves curled over his head and sent him rolling into the deep blue. 

He knew to look for the sparkling white bubbles, to swim toward them, and to breach and grab a gasp of air before preparing for the next wave, knowing that each breath might be his last- but at least it would be given to the ocean, and not the pirates who had come to claim his family.