A mysterious figure drifted amidst the currents of the sea. It had been hours since his ship had been destroyed. Now, all that remained was a half-broken board, which he clung to desperately. He could float for as long as he needed, thanks to the armor that was underneath his dusty brown cloak, but his conciousness was beginning to fade. He was hundreds of miles from any known civilzation. It seemed he was doomed to death, this time, as he finally faded into unconsciousness. ------------------------------ Julius awoke sometime later. He was laying on... stone, it felt like. He tried to reach out, but found himself unable. His conciousness began to fade, again, as he dragged himself along the shore. His cloak was in tatters now, but he was still warm, yet cool. The luxuries of having am associate whom was an Outfitter. ---------------------------- Consciousness came in waves for him again. At first, an instinctual sort of feeling came to him. It was... clearer, now, than it had been once. Then came the feeling in his limbs, and his head. He opened his eyes, finally. His vision was blurry, at first. His surroundings came to him in hastily-taken snapshots. His head throbbed, and his eyes burned. Still, he tried to keep them open. The smell of sea salt became more apparent as he eyes finally became clear. All around him... was stone. Several pillars of rock rose straight up, out of the sea. On the island itself were several large tufts of grass, and a smashed jade obelisk. It seemed as though someone had been here, before. Perhaps they were still here. Julius rose to his feet, beginning to lumber to the remains of the obelisk. As he got closer, it seemed to take more the shape of a toad; perhaps whomever had been here venerated Cyclos in some way..? Regardless, he soon noticed the large cave leading into the island as well. Another shattered stone barrier lay in front of him. Without much more thought, he swallowed his saliva, laid a hand on his sword, and entered into the cavern. Caves like this usually meant monsters -- monsters which Julius wasn't sure he could handle.
Boris was afraid. He'd fled from Dragon Roost Island, terrified both for himself, and those around him. The Twister, as he had come to know it, had done something unspeakable to his body. Even now, he shuddered to remember his own reflection, remembering his visage of desiccated and dead wood. He'd worried that the denizens of the island would persecute him, that they would not understand that it was not his fault, what had happened to him. Oh, but it is, my toy. You came to me with an offering, not the other way around. The Twister's voice cackled in his mind, though Boris could not tell whether or not it was truly the Twister, or if it was his own self-loathing. More terrible still, though, was that the ship that he had fled to, to return to the mainland, had been overtaken by a storm. The last he saw of it, it was nearly listing in those tumultuous waters: he, himself, had been pitched overboard, along with one other. Which led to his current predicament, which was tending to an unconscious Tokay. The man--he wasn't sure, but from the build, he assumed that was the case--was still fast asleep, apparently the trauma of the sea having taken a heavy toll on his body. He hadn't caught the other passenger's name, before they'd gone overboard, and it had obviously been impossible since. They'd initially washed up on the beach of the small island, but fearing that the tide would pull them back into the sea, Boris had crafted a crude sled for the Tokay, who was rather heavy, and had dragged him further inland. He'd wandered into a cave, to get out of the sun and into a cooler area--scaled folk were accustomed to cooler temperatures, Boris thought he recalled. A lot of his medicinal herbs had been washed away when he'd fallen into the water, though thankfully most of his other equipment had survived, so he didn't have anything to try to wake the Tokay with. He'd tried to shake him to no avail. Still, the prospect of the Tokay waking also worried him. Though he was currently disguised as a Kikwi, through the use of one of his recently gained powers from the Twister, a spell named Actor's Illusion, Boris knew that it would eventually come to light that he was an abomination. So worried was he about this, that he nearly didn't notice the sound of approaching steps. Scrambling for his mace, and his book-turned-shield, Boris held them up defensively towards the approaching sound. "Who's there?!" he squeaked out.
Julius' voice rasped out as best it could, "I could ask the same." He was absolutely parched -- by Din, Nayru, and Farore, he was thirsty. His muscles ached in defiance as he continued walking towards whatever -- whoever -- lay in waiting inside the cave. It was . . . a Kikwi. Julius hadn't met many, if any at all. Another thing to come with the freeze of Hyrule, he supposed. Of course, he had no time to suppose, now. "Please, I'm so thirsty." He would have cried had he been able to. The fact of the matter was that he was nearly entirely dehydrated -- it was a miracle he was moving as much as he did, in fact. "By the Goddesses, I'm so thirsty." He collapsed right then and there. As he dropped to the floor, his hand tugged into his Adventure Pouch. He clutched his Lens, seeing the Kikwi for the monstrosity it truly was. Of course, perhaps if it spoke, it truly was no monstrosity . . ? "I suppose he got the better of you as well, though no doubt worse than I," he wheezed out again. "That boy, whoever he is . . . he's not normal, though I suppose you know that as much as I do by now. He was getting thirstier with every word he spoke. His throat burned. His vocal chords felt as though they were being torn apart. "Please, some water."
