[ IP ] The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous ...

Both options looked rather grim. 
 
 The sea frothed in its wrath, enraged by the swirling, black clouds overhead and a vicious wind that ran its long fingers through the thick beach grass, whipping the tendrils like the tresses of a young woman. 
 
 Yet behind them their homes burned. The inferno had started innocently, as all monsters do, and had spread to devour their sleepy seaside village. The flames rejoiced in the gale, their tendrils dancing up, reaching for the sky and welcoming the rain, daring it to try and drown its might. 
 
 Where the sea spun with rage, the fire sang with life. The sea swelled and the fire spread. There was no way around the blaze as it crept forth to the water, as if on a mission to destroy itself or meet its only worth opponent. The buckets that they had carried to put out the flames had been long abandoned, along with so many precious items, left to be taken by the pillaging fire. 
 
 The ships might withstand the waves. 
 
 Their bodies would surely not withstand the flame. 
 
 It was with this knowledge that they heaved the women and children and themselves into these small ships. Perhaps the sea would pity them. Perhaps if they overturned the water would be tamable. 
 
 Perhaps drowning was better than burning.
