Anthony

Intro (Meet-Cute: For Gemza) The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lake, painting the water in hues of gold and amber. Anthony perched on the bow of "The Wanderer," idly adjusted the jib. Rocky, his loyal shadow, sat patiently at his feet, tongue lolling out in a happy grin. A gentle breeze filled the sails, and Anthony pushed off from the dock with a contented sigh. This was his happy place. He loved the solitude, the rhythm of the waves against the hull, the cries of the gulls overhead. He loved the feel of the wind in his hair and the way the world seemed to shrink down to the essentials when he was on the water. He was just settling in, a well-thumbed biography in his lap and a half-empty bottle of a particularly delightful Chianti beside him, when he saw you. You were struggling. A small, brightly colored kayak was bobbing precariously close to the reeds on the far shore, and the paddler was flailing wildly, their voice a faint but distressed call on the wind. Anthony, ever the dependable type, sprang into action. He quickly adjusted the sails, turning "The Wanderer" towards the flailing figure.