<div class="floatleft">(http://i62.tinypic.com/k88d4.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Krad Zephyros<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Water Tribe Outskirts<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open (the creatures of the wild)<br/><br/><hr/><br/>There weren't many people out on the ice to question what a man from the Earth-Nation was doing so far away from the kingdom. There were even less people to question his motives. It was just as he liked it. Isolation away from the voices. There was nothing but the rolling sprinkles of icy dust chittering in the breeze, the shifting, melting, and freezing of the ice beneath him, and the quiet hum of the frigid ocean current flowing only three feet beneath the frozen surface. The young man sat upon a thin layer of snow. Fully wrapped in a royal blue robe, his youthful skin only felt the tiniest of chills. His legs splayed open before him with knees up, his strong hands held a tight grip on his long rod.<br/><br/>There weren't many people around to question why he used his rod as he did. The natives might have thought him a primitive barbarian.<em>Normal</em>folk these days would have nothing to do with this practice. Yet here he was: A man in the wild with his strong hands upon his tool. Deep blue hair folded over his face in thick arching spikes. Though they blocked his eyes, a deep concentration described his face. The hardened rod was warm from the young man's grip. He maintained a practiced control and a trans-like calm that hinted to prior experience to such an act. Though his concentration was soon broken.<br/><br/>His rod twitched, and a gasp formed upon his face. Heat from deep within his lungs steamed the air. His lips slowly moved, forming unspoken words.<em>"Come on..."</em>He may have awoken from his trans, but the professional concentration had not been broken. His grip tightened as the satisfaction wet his lips.<br/><br/>Another twitch. This time, the young man's lip curled with anticipation.<em>"Almost... there..."</em>Not even the frigid cold could stop him in the middle of this act. Dating back to days not yet recorded, men have performed this ritual. It was a matter of survival; a primal satisfaction all men chased after. Now, Krad rests upon the cusp of reaching that ultimate goal. He could feel the tension upon his tool build. His grip tightened in response. His jaws unconsciously clenched. Finally, a quick series of twitches threw him over the edge and his body awakened with primal ferocity.<br/><br/><strong>"Haaa!"</strong>The young traveler gave a huge tug of his rod as quick and hard as he possibly could. Before him, between his legs, was a splash of icy cold liquid and his prize bursting from the cold.<br/><br/>The long-whiskered white-fish flopped around helplessly as it dangled along the end of Krad's line. The thin wire tugged and bounced along the fisherman's rod frantically in an attempt to drop back into the circular hole cut into the ice just in front of the hunter. A deep satisfaction spread across Krad's face. The wooden tool might have been a primitive choice to go fishing, but there was something satisfying about hunting as one's ancestors did.<br/><br/>There was one thing this hunter had not anticipated, however, and that was competition.<br/><br/>Celebration came prematurely as a mass of black and white bolted pass his line of sight. An owlish blink was all it took to realize the fish he'd caught had vanished with the shade. Turning quickly, he faced his competitor: an Otter Penguin. Three feet of beast stared back at him with darkened eyes, crafted by evolution over a millennium to create a swift arctic hunter. Its feral whiskers tickled the chilling breeze as it sought out the pheromones secreted from fear. Its scale-rending beak clutched tightly upon its helpless pray. The only thing stopping this shadowy assassin of the snow from snapping the fish in half, was the sadistic pleasure it took in taunting the human with its beady black eyes.<br/><br/>Krad's eyes met with the wild wraith. Fear was abscent from the human's expression and replaced with a look easily translated by all races, species and creed.<em>"Bring it on..."</em><br/><br/>In a flash, the two hunters were off: man and beast swallowed by the spirit of competition and the instinct to survive this harsh environment. The Otter-Penguin held a home-field advantage. Diving onto the snow, it's streamlined body allowed it to bobsled across the tundra at speeds no normal human could reach. But Krad was far from a normal human.<br/><br/>He chased after the creature with blind fury. In his hand he held the fishing rod that would serve as his weapon. With a whip and a flick of his wrist his line was cast. The hook glinted from the light of the frozen sun and snapped into the snow like a dominatrix's whip. The Otter-Penguin dodged successfully, but Krad hadn't finished as of yet. He flicked his weapon once more. Nothing but snow was smashed into the air from the second dodge and the beast was quickly escaping range. Eyes as blue as an intense flame dissected the creature's movenet patterns, and with the yell that would make any barbarian father proud of his son, Krad struck out with merciless intent.<br/><br/>There was a snap and a sharp cry as the native bird was struck. Its powerful jaws released the fish back into the air, where the hook from the makeshift fishing rod caught hold in its mouth.<br/><br/>The Otter-penguin twisted to a stop; its blubbered body creating a path in the snow as it whipped around to eye down the human.<br/><br/>Victoriously, Krad taunted the beast with a smirk as his prize danged at the end of the line.<br/><br/>Oh, but this was far from over.<br/><br/>His victory soon faded as he heard the sound of snow parting towards his left. Deep blue eyes shifted over to view yet another arctic hunter sliding eerily to a halt. To his right, he turned to view a third waddling to its tiny feet of doom. The three took a deadly confidence in their numbers as they waddled into position.<br/><br/>Confidence fleeting, the human steeled himself to the only choice he had left.<br/><br/>Turning tail, he sprinted off into the unforgiving wilds; his cries echoing through the vastness.<strong>"LEAVE ME ALONE!"</strong><br/><br/>The hunt was on, and like trained predators, the wraiths dove across the snow chasing down the human; an easy kill for the deceptively cuddily penguins.<br/><br/>None could survive....<em>The Penguinning</em>...