Post Tantrum Strategy Detonation (The Tom-Tom Files) (Volume 8)

Tom: I shifted my head uncomfortably and turned onto my back, subconsciously cursing the hard floor of . . .. I frowned, then squinted against the sunlight, opening my eyes. I shot-upright. “WHY?” I demanded, observing the ocean tide in all directions from inside the row-boat. Sharik, the sandy-haired, blue-eyed, muscular figure on the opposite end of the boat – my captain of the guard as it happened – jolted awake at my complaint. He sat up stiffly and looked to his right, then frowned, glancing to his left, then looked to me. “I quit,” he informed me. You're probably wondering how exactly it was that we came to be in that position. Honestly, I was rather curious about that myself.