Splash!
Waves crashed against the ship's hull, sending a spray of seawater across the deck and splattering against a pair of immaculate black boots.
Anne stared towards the water as a figure appeared, swimming through it without a struggle. He was also keeping his head down the entire time, no longer needing to turn his head to take in fresh air.
Her grip over the whip loosened slightly as she looked at the scene below.
'Not bad, he's improved quite a bit over the past several weeks.'
One could argue that the past several weeks had been hell for Lazarus.
Waking up early in the morning, before even having breakfast, he was thrown off the ship and forced to follow the ship while swimming.
The first few days were the worst.
Because he wasn't used to swimming, and his form wasn't very good, his pace was quite slow.
In order to keep up with him, the ship had to slow down.
