The environment was cool and deafeningly queit. The air was fresh and voluminous. Chilling breezes kept sweeping up above the surface of the calm blue water.
The cold breezes would blow right onto Chris and Quax, where they sat on the small square wooden raft.
Each of them sat flat onto the surface of the raft. They held their oars in both hands, and each was rowing the raft on his side.
The small vessel kept, in turn, flowing gently over the surface of the calm ocean water, sliding steadily forward, and headed towards the land on the other side of the Strait of Perdona.
Looking up ahead of them, Chris could see the land, appearing from a disntace where they were rowing towards.
There was a huge cliff of black rock, rising upwards from the ocean water below, into the sky above.
Rig
