Increasing the Chances of Survival

The wind howled fiercely, whipping Amelia's chestnut hair wildly around her face as she clung to the ship's railing. Icy sea spray pelted her skin like tiny needles as the ship pitched and rolled on the storm-tossed waves. She squinted against the stinging salt, peering out into the gloomy darkness. Somewhere out there, through the inky black night and driving rain, lay the island and the answers she sought.

Amelia tightened her grip, resolve steeling her nerves. She had not come this far by giving up at the first sign of hardship. This was merely another test, and she would pass it, just as she had all the others.

Turning from the railing, she made her way carefully across the slippery deck. The ship lurched beneath her feet, but she adjusted her stance, moving with the roll of the waves. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the shadows until they landed on a hunched form near the mast. One of the werewolf pack members. She approached slowly, sensing his tension.