Wind had a blue backpack. Muara hadn't brought one.

So he went to Ocean's boat shed to borrow another.

Ocean took his old blue pack down from a hook. It was faded by years of sun and salt, with a neat patch at the bottom.

“This is a really good pack,” he said.

Wind looked at the patch.

“It's been everywhere.”

Ocean checked a buckle and handed it over.

“It can always tell a friend.”