A warm breeze blew from across the deck of the ship smelling like salt from the sea. Men rushed around trying to get everything ready, all talking in heavy french accents. One man stood slightly apart from the rest, one hand resting on the railing. His stomach turned with each wave that lifted the ship.<br/>"Monsieur you are looking a little green." A shorter man lightly touched his elbow.<br/>"I am fine, it is nothing." He turned from the man, taking a deep breath before heading below deck to grab a cloak.<br/><br/>The still ground beneath his boots helped relieve some of the seasickness, but it was soon replaced by a yearning for his homeland. Yes the people were friendly, and the colours were stunning but he felt as though everyone were watching him. His scuffed boots stirred up some of the dirt from around the ports, mixing with the air tainted by fish, sea salt, and the other smells that accompanied the event soon to take place. He stood on one of the docks, taking in the sight of the many ships from countries he had only ever heard of from travelers.<br/><br/>The man soon returned to his ship, head low as to attract as little attention as possible he slipped into his cabin. Lowering himself onto the hard bed, he wondered why he had accepted to come here. The sounds of preparations drifted in through the port hole, reminding him that he had a duty to fulfill. His boots hit the boards as he trudged up the steps once more to help the crew get ready.<br/>"You are looking better monsieur, have you had any rest since we arrived?" The same man from before addressed him.<br/>"I took a few moments to rest but there are things to be done as you should know." The man nodded before scampering off to another task at hand. Returning to the deck rail, the man leaned against them, letting sea spray splash his face.