Makani felt that she was off to a bad start, to say the least.

The very first island that she had discovered turned out to be run by an insane, murderous preteen. Had her gramma ever envisioned this end for one of her colonies? Did she already know somehow?

Makani resolved that, if asked about it, she would lie to her gramma. Gramma didn't need to be burdened with any feelings of failure as she crossed over to join the gods. She deserved a peaceful death, after all she had done and gone through.

She was still very shaken with her encounter with the island. She could not focus as she sailed toward her next destination. At least she was being blessed with clear seas - for now. Makani was not experienced enough to tell if the grey clouds on the horizon were bad news or not, but she would very much like to reach the island before she discovered firsthand.

Surely I've seen the worst, she thought, and the thought heartened her. If I've seen the worst, then I've gotten it out of the way, and the best is still to come! Hope renewed, she pinned the slightly waterstained map to the deck with her knees and sailed accordingly.

Again, boredom began to set in. Makani had expected this to be a great adventure: sail across the sea, find the demigod, and return home a hero in Gramma's eyes. There was a lot more of the first part than she had bargained for. How had Moana stood it?

But then, if her gramma's story was completely true, she hadn't sailed alone for that long. Only about a day. Then her boat had crashed and she found Maui. Makani was nearing the end of her first day and hoped that her story would turn out like her gramma's - with much more excitement than this crushing boredom.

She wondered if her parents had discovered her absence. Of course they had - she had missed supper with the tribe. Her stomach rumbled and she sighed, reaching into her supplies and pulling out a coconut. "Bottoms up," she said to the sea, and cracked it smarty against the mast of her boat.

Once her hunger was sated, Makani felt a little better. She tried not to think about her parents, worrying. Her gramma, dying. The man she had left on the island, terrified.

Makani felt a heavy weight on her back that came from the promises she had made, and she thought of how strange it was that a thing born from trust and caring could be so painful to carry.

Later that night, after the sun had sank below the horizon and stars decorated the deep velvet of the sky, Makani thought she saw the island.

It was hard to tell, of course, because of the dark, but a shape loomed on the horizon, blocking out stars. If it wasn't an island, Makani didn't know what it could be, and according to her map, this was the island she wanted.

Makani packed away her things, making sure the map was safe and secure, before focusing directly on the black shape. It still took the better part of the next hour to reach it, but when she did, she found that sure enough, it was an island.

Makani wasn't sure what to do. At the previous island, it had been daytime. There had been people working on the beach to see her approach. Now, everyone would be asleep. Hopefully at least one restless soul would be wandering the beach, as she had done when she was younger.

Makani smiled fondly at the memory. She had had trouble sleeping when she was younger, so she would sneak out of her tent and make her way down to the beach to watch the waves roll in until she felt sleepy. Her gramma had been the one to discover this habit, but only because she did the same thing. Gramma just went down to the beach later at night, but she came earlier one time and saw her granddaughter, hugging her knees to her chest and staring out at the ocean.

Gramma had just smiled and laughed. "You remind me of myself," she had noted, taking Makani's hand and leading her back to her tent.

That didn't solve Makani's sleeping problem, but now she had someone to visit the beach with. Eventually, she had found the problem gone, and sleep came easily. Many a time afterwards, she had wondered if her gramma still visited the beach at night, staring over the endless sea. Makani felt too shy to ask, however. Night was a different world. Everyone had a mask of darkness. It was easier to be honest and ask strange questions. Makani felt that speaking of their nighttime habits during the day would break some sort of unwritten rule, and so she remained silent.

Now, she hoped for somebody to do the same tonight. She sent up a quick prayer to the gods for her smooth arrival at the island and sailed toward their beach.

When her boat hit sand, she got out and pushed it up onto the beach. With wet legs that were slowly getting covered with sand, Makani walked a little ways up the beach and hesitated. She could not tell where the village was, and even if she could, did she want to take the chance that they would be kinder than the last island's people? Maybe it would be better to remain with her boat and wait out the night...

Makani sat down on her boat and settled in. Before she knew it, the world was darkening, and sleep slipped over her, as stealthy as a hunter.