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She took two more steps and paused - squeezed her eye tightly shut - and Ember gasped as she seemed forward up the shore to visit a man battling in water. He was hacking and coughing - spitting water from his oral cavity as he crawled from water and onto the sand. As he collapsed face-down on the shore, Ember lifted her skirt and ran toward the person, falling to her knees beside him. "Sir?" she cried, nudging one wide-ranging shoulder. The man was stripped of his clothing - dressed only in a set of trousers - no shoes... Ember shook her brain, rolling her eye at her own foolishness. "Sir?" she called again, nudging his wide-ranging shoulder once more. The man lay down on his stomach - his face changed from her. "Will you be inactive, sir?" she asked. Positioning a hand to his rear, she sighed with alleviation as she experienced he yet breathed. "Sir?" she said, clambering within the man's wide-ranging torso. The man coughed. His eye exposed - his profound blue eye, so shaded by heavy, wet lashes that Ember pondered how it was he could see beyond them. "Sir?" Ember ventured. He coughed, asking, "Where am I?" "On the seashore, sir," Ember responded.
