The palms whipped in the wind, announcing the coming typhoon. Francois put his hands behind his head, tried for nonchalance as the hammock strung between the tree trunks. It wouldn't do to show fear for this client... wouldn't do at all.
Without thinking about it, he glanced at the mounds of sands where he had buried the sea glass bottles.
The waves exploded in the flashing of numberless fish. The beach was soon covered in a carpet of crabs marching in with the tide. Typhon always arrived with a distracting amount of fanfare. Well, what did Francois expect when dealing with the Gods?