Traitors
The clouds were growing over the island, but still appeared mostly light grey and puffy. Pierce Vane stepped to the mouth of the cave and peered out, his beetle-like eyes scanning the jungle before him.
The winds were picking up, causing the trees to bend and sway, filling the air with the strange brushing sound that came from their leaves and branches as they danced. It would make it nearly impossible to catch sight of intruders moving about if they were there. Their motion would blend with the surroundings. That only put the leader of the mutinous pirates more on edge.
Although the skies were still bright and it might have looked like an extra breezy day to anyone else, Pierce Vane had spent enough time on the ocean to be able to read the weather like a book. A storm was coming, and it would be a bad one.