He was drawn to the ocean, the thick smell of saltwater filling his nostrils as he found himself on the shore. It was a crystal clear day, the sky above perfect as the tropical air breezed past him, ruffling his fur in the same rhythm that the waves crashed on the shore. He looked around, alone with nothing but seagulls that cawed and squawked at one another.
The deer took his first steps on a wooden pier, his hooves clanking on the wood as he began across. It was exceptionally well built, but old as he could see some damage on the structure. Still, he wanted to be as close to the water as he could, and he went to the edge of the pier. Tails looked to the ocean, and squinting from the reflective sunlight, he caught a glimpse of something.
A rowboat was slowly making its way toward him, guided by the wind though seeming to be moving all on its own. He watched with curiosity, finally calling out,
"Hello? Anyone there?". No answer, the boat coming closer and closer until it was before him, gently stopping with a bonk on the barnacle-crusted pier. The wooden boat was empty, but was
surprisingly beautiful. There were not many distinctive features of it other than the painted words on the side - 'Esprit du Vent'.
"Must have come from France...", Tails spoke to himself, inspecting the rowboat with curiosity,
"But what is it doing here?" He heard voices in the breeze, at first thinking spirits were speaking to him, but now realizing it was the seagulls. No longer were they simply cawing, but now they were speaking one word - "Sail! Sail! Sail! Sail!"
He looked to them with a headtilt, then back to the strange rowboat.