The clouds gathered at the edge of the sky, and the waves surged at the coast's edge. Cuba's unique blackbird, on the approaching storm's horizon, let out its last mating call. When the August hurricane sweeps in, the coastal lowlands will be flooded by unending rain and wind, and the Cuban blackbird's half-year breeding season will abruptly end in August.
The chirping of the birds was loud, circling endlessly. The seven longships of the Kingdom quietly anchored at the palm-covered cape. Here was the eastern end of Cuba Snake Island, while the Great Island of Haiti across the strait silently looked on from afar.
"Chief Divine's blessing! Such thick clouds, such large waves... I reckon, a storm capable of sweeping fish to their deaths is coming soon!"
Old Militia Chiwaco raised his head, gazing into the sky to the east of the coast, deeply furrowing his brows.
