Reggie, Gunther, and Randall sat on weathered crates by the shoreline, their gazes fixed on the restless waves lapping at the dock. The salty air carried the tang of anticipation as they awaited their boat to embark on their perilous journey.
A group of sailors, weathered and gruff like the dock manager, bustled about nearby, preparing vessels for departure. The brothers had approached several of them, inquiring about passage to the forbidden island, but each sailor had shaken his head vehemently, refusing to risk venturing anywhere near its cursed shores.
"We're gonna need a boat of our own," Reggie muttered, his brow furrowed in frustration. "No sailor in his right mind is gonna take us there willingly."
Gunther scowled, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Dammit, this whole situation just keeps getting worse. We can't afford to waste any more time sitting around here."
