Day One: Morning

[Orion]

"Day one: morning."

Koola staggered up the hillside, the heavy downpour making the grassy slope intractable to his three toed footsteps. More than once he had lost his composure, but thankfully no one had seen him. Battling the raindrops slapping against his bare skin, he reached the peak of the hill. Dark, ominous clouds rolled on and on through the sky, drenching the island in a fine mist that blurred the landscape in the distance. Beams of sunlight peeked through the only crack in the sullen heavens, acting like a beacon, drawing the changeling's attention. Once again, his appreciation of the beauty of nature captivated him.

"Ahhh..." he sighed, relaxing during an event that perhaps he shouldn't be. "I reached the top of the hill, only to have a grey blanket prevent me from scouting the island. However, I was lucky enough to glimpse the majesty of heavenly light break through the dull." Koola had grown tired with the lack of action, and decided to narrate his every move. "I felt an itch on my arse; I scratched."

With no true compass and no indication of where his father could be, Koola digged around in his satchel for an item that might help. He found a scouter; he stuck it enthusiastically to the left side of his face.

"I felt so naked without my scouter," he continued to narrate. "Putting it back on, I couldn't believe how much I missed it. Perhaps, one day, we'll have a torrid love affair." Yet, the mechanised energy reader did not contain the unique pattern that belonged to King Cold. It could do little more than alert him to anything alive nearby, whether that be his father, another combatant, or the various critters that could be roaming upon the land.

With a little more searching, he located a fresh map, something he glossed over earlier. Koola pulled it out and unrolled it like a scroll, but the relentless precipitation began to dampen it.

"AH!" the changeling shouted, his voice unintentionally echoing over the island. "My map! My map! My map!" He started dancing around like a fool. Quickly he stuffed it back into his drawstring bag and took a running slide down the hillside. Ducking under the cover of a nearby oak tree, he retrieved it and examined it again. There were several interesting landmarks, but only one really got the Icer's attention. Smirking, he rolled the map up again and threw it in the bag for safe keeping.

"Deciding upon my next move," Koola cataloged aloud, "I stood beneath the almighty protection of the oak tree and began on my way for my destination. Would I find my father? Would I maim someone terribly along the way? Stay tuned for the next update of Koola: The Dante Years!"