The morning air was salty and cool as Jude made his way down the winding trail that led to the beach. The scent of the ocean was always comforting, grounding in a way nothing else on the island was. Birds sang overhead, and the sound of waves crashing gently against the jagged rocks filled the space between his thoughts.
Emma walked beside him, her long hair tied up in a messy knot, a net slung over one shoulder and a woven basket swinging in her hand. She had insisted on coming with him, citing boredom and a desire to "do something useful," but her tone had been more playful than practical.
"You know," Emma said, nudging him with her shoulder, "when I imagined living on an island, I thought it would involve more lounging under palm trees with a drink in my hand and less... hauling fish traps."
Jude smirked. "You want a drink, I'll ferment some fruit for you."
