Seven days had passed since Poul's departure from the shores of the British Empire, and now, as he stepped foot on the hallowed grounds of the Port of New York, a wave of emotions washed over him. The familiar hustle and bustle of the city, the vibrant energy in the air, and the old buildings embraced him like a long-lost friend. It was a feeling of belonging, a sense of homecoming that wrapped around him, easing the weariness of his journey.
"Poul!" He heard someone calling from afar, Poul's gaze flickered at the source of the voice and there he saw a familiar figure. It was Jonathan and Morgan, waving their hands and tipping their hats.
Poul tipped his hat and waved his hands in return before walking towards them.
"Poul!" Jonathan exclaimed. "It's good to have you back buddy," he embraced.
