Fraxale was getting inpatient at this time, for he could make out what appeared to be a good sized ship about to reach the very same island that he was mear yards from.   He readied a dingy and rowwed the final 13 yards to the sands.<br/>" Know then, lets see what this island has to offer", as his fingers grew to a fin point, each that ended as razor tips, and small horns grew just above his eybrows.<br/>He tilted his bottle of milk bottoms up, finishing every drop he could, then sprinted around the beach to the point of origin that the flair resonated from.