Warning

I step upon the sandy beach, letting the rough grains fill the space between my toes. I turn my gaze toward the cloaked figure who stands like a sentry over the desolate shores.
"What do you want?" I ask.
"To warn you." comes the quiet reply.
"Well I don't care for it." I say, "I can handle anything that comes my way."
"Not this time. They are too strong, even for you."
But the words fall on dead ears. I have more important things to do.