Coconut Grove remnants of home

Dash picked his way through the underbrush to draw up even the woman, who had the better view of the coastline from her position. He squinted across the sea, trying to imagine how Little Miss could have managed to get so very lost. He had absolutely no clue what a boat was, and even though he wasn't the sharpest banana in the bunch, he understood that Little Miss was very, very far from anyone or anything that might be likely to help her. 

Except him. He turned to her, sympathy plain on his features. "I know what it's like to be separated from the person you love," he told her earnestly. "I'm really sorry." Everything about the man looked wilted. 

He didn't hear the exact words she murmured to herself, but her sentiment was plain upon her face. Little Miss looked like she could very well be re-named Little Miss Hopeless.   

"Look here, Little Miss. You're safe enough with this old sea-cur. I'm a fisherman by trade, and I'm not in the habit of eating nothin' that's got four legs.. excepting maybe a boar every now and then..." Damn, that sounded good...

Before his mind could drift off track, he forced his attention back to Little Miss. "Name's Dash," he offered, one brow raised questioningly.