The sailor rhythmically scrapes the blade against the wood, the metallic screech almost audible. He pauses to test the edge with a trembling thumb, a sinister glint in his eye. The camera tracks slowly around him in a tight circle, emphasizing his isolation and the sharpening tool, building a sense of imminent violence. Dialogue in this scene: Scurvy Sailor: "If we don't see trees by dawn, the...
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