Scribble: The Album Leaf came on Pandora.

      The salty spray tickled unshaven cheeks, as dark eyes drifted between puffs of white above. Hands bundled in the pockets of a worn, weathered hoodie, the wanderer just sighed, leaning against a dented car door. Morning light danced on the shimmering waters just beyond the old safety rail, gentler than the blinding reflection from the hood and roof behind him, but still slipping little needles of light into his eyes. Somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out, the half-mocking laughter of a bird who knows no other sounds.
      "Are we almost ready?" came a gentle voice from behind, as the wanderer turned to see wind-tousled locks, splayed over shoulders, and eyes deeper than any ocean.
      She was smiling so brightly, he wasn't sure if he squinted from the harsh light off the roof. "I think so," he finally said, a smile slipping onto his stubbly face. "Let's go."
      A scene ended. An adventure began.