C411 Goodbye Little Red Dog
"Phew!"
The sea breeze, laden with the tang of saltwater, lashed against his face.
"Have you made up your mind?"
Cello Everett turned to Whitebeard and said, "You know, if you leave now, you could still live another two or three years."
Whitebeard shook his head, offering no lengthy explanation, just a heavy sigh.
"I'm old."
Just three words