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Alaine was flying. His wings rowed through the air and the sun was warm on his back. No longer did the ache and pain of his crippled body haunt him. His scales were the color of the sky itself and he was whole and complete. The clouds were beneath him, white as snow and soft looking to his keen eyes, and above Aratha shown above him in all her glory. Her great golden eye watched him with the same regard he could recall his mother giving him when he was young. She welcomed him as he let the current of the air raise him up and drop him down in a gentle bobbing motion that took advantage of the warmer air beneath. It did not matter that he had never flown before, his body knew what to do and rejoiced in it. His joy surged to unknown heights as he flirted with the breeze and allowed himself to truly be what he had hatched to be.

His body was strong and fit, not muscled from work in the mines, but lean as a creature of the air was meant to be. A dragon only needed muscles along his haunches to snatch prey or take to wing, not to grow heavy legged from walking all his life. He could feel the wise goddess' joy in him, she looked over what he was and rejoiced that her creation had come back to her. How could he ignore that joy? He roared out with his pleasure and bounced through the currents of the air that rose and fell so he was forced to bob with them. He arched his uncollared neck and allowed them to bounce him through the air as he spread his wings wide in homage to the one who had created him.

And his joy shattered as the bobbing of the air came with a rush of cold liquid that flowed down his throat and made his lungs tighten. From one beat to the next he left the place of sun and joy and became aware of his body rocking and sharp pains along his sides as if two great hands were trying to squeeze the life of him. Bitter salt water choked the drake's throat as his slow mind came to feel the aches and pains of his wretched body. He tried to lunge back into the warmth and sky he had just moments ago flown too, but the pain and cold drew him back to his body as it rocked back and forth. It made him stir and slowly peel back an eye just in time to have a roll of water surge over his head and spill down his back.

He jerked his head up and coughed weakly, but the coughing only made the pain in his sides worse. He moved one of his forepaws with a groan and tried to find the ground, but it knocked against something hard and rough. It took him time to clear his eyes from the salt water, but when he did he only confirmed what his body knew. He still lived. He was caught between two rocks where the presumably the tide had thrown him and the water that rolled around him made his head and hind quarters bob with the waves that surged forward. He blinked a few times and squinted at the harsh rays of the sun that beat down on him, but didn't warm him. The cold water stole the warmth away as he scrabbled his claws against the rocks to try and free himself.

His soft scales tore along his sides as he gripped the taller rock and dragged himself upwards. The only areas that were protected were those covered in the chains that the elf had thrown over him, but it wasn't a relief, it was a weight that hampered him. Alaine's tongue tried to loll out from his muzzled snout as he heaved himself up step by painful step. His claws dug into the rock as he used his hindlegs to brace against the opposite rock so he could inch ever higher. He was never so grateful as he was in that moment for the muscles he had earned hauling rocks. Despite his exhausted body they took him to the top of the rock where he could wind his tail around it and crouch down on the small bit of solid ground to get his bearings.

The ocean swirled around him so deep a turquoise that he wondered if there even was a bottom as his head swayed back and forth on his neck. The rocks that had pinned him weren't alone, there were others scattered about some distance around him, many of them sharp and wicked looking to his inexperienced eye. He sneezed out a bit of salt water and tilted his head back to follow the line of rocks that led towards.....something. Island would have granted the patch of rocky ground more substance than it deserved. The shore was rocky with a scattering of sand that created white patches in the midst of the black. Inwards the color changed to sooty grey and palest white with irregular features that made it hard to tell exactly what the place was made of. For now it didn't matter, for now it was somewhere that he could dry himself and rest.

The drake gave his aching wings a shake before trying to fold them awkwardly to his back, they didn't hurt more than the rest of him so assumed they had taken no great hurt in the current. Alaine snorted to himself in disgust. What did he care if his wings had been torn off? They were of no use to him. The bitter thought made bile rise in his throat as he shifted on the rock and peered down at the water below. He should have died in the water. The metal chains should have pulled him under and ended his existence just as he planned, but he had been thrown up by the current. Did the god of the sea have as little use for him as his goddess? The thought should have unsettled him, but it only added to the anger that stirred in his weary chest.

With a growl he shifted his haunches beneath him and considered the distance between himself and the shore. It was no small distance, but there were rocks along the way, as long as he was able to make it rock to rock, despite the chains around him, he would be able to drag himself to the desolate shore. The drake gave himself a shake to assess himself and his injuries, his sides hurt, but nothing felt broken. He could smell his own dark blood leaking down his sides, but he had bled before, there was nothing he could do about it at it this point. As he turned to examine himself he caught sight of the limp form hanging down against the rocks. The battered thing was barely recognizable save for the long braid of red hair that hung heavy and dripping down the rock.

Alaine bared his teeth and snarled before maneuvering his muzzled head down to the body that was still caught up in the chains. He had killed Lanon. How many others had gone over the rocks with him? His chest warmed as he scraped his muzzle against the body and twisted his head sharply to catch one of the sides against the tangled corpse. It flopped against his nose and reeked of death as the drake gave a jerk of his head to rid himself of the creature. The pale form twisted for a few moments before the chains feel loose against his side and the elf's body dropped down into the water beneath him. The dark water closed around it and drew it down into the turquoise depths as the drake let out a rasping noise low in his throat. The unfamiliar croon of pleasure made his throat ache as he felt a new determination fill his breast. Yes, if he would live, he would see them all swallowed by the sea.

_If the gods have turned their backs on me and refuse my death, then I will live and prove myself to Aratha. Do you hear me, my goddess? I will send you the lives of those that slew your children! _ With a low growl the drake set his sights on the first rock and leapt from his perch.

~ ~ * ~ ~

It had taken Alaine most of the day to drag himself from rock to rock, pausing each time his body threatened to drop from exhaustion. Only the long hours of serving in the mines, no matter how tired his body, kept him going until he could drag himself onto the shore. Once there he had found the island filled with soot and ash that clung to his paws with the lingering scent of sulfur. His paws had uncovered gleaming obsidian that ran like frozen water along the ground and he had gotten his answer. A volcano of some sort had caused this, though his limited knowledge didn't give him any answers on how a volcano could be present on an island that only loomed a few feet taller than he was. It was enough that he had an answer for the strange texture of the ground as the ashes had puffed around him. It had coated his sides as he dragged himself onto their relative softness and collapsed into unconsciousness without a care to how safe it was or not.

When morning came, he had found himself needing two things desperately. Fresh water and food. The former he was able to find on his own with relative ease as a part of the inner island yielded a small pool barely larger than his fisted paw that was filled from below. He had sucked the water eagerly through his muzzle and waited for it to be refilled so he could drain it again. He drank until he could drink no more and then tried to get his bearings on what he could do for food. The results were singularly disappointing as the only living things he could find were small crabs and the fish by the shore. The former were too small for him to eat with any success and the latter he had no use of his muzzle to catch. But as long as he was able to drink he would live, hungry, but he would live.

His 'kingdom' could be walked across easily in less than an hour even if he went at a leisurely pace. There were no bushes, no growing things, no birds, nothing but ashes and soot that puffed up around his paws as he walked around it. His first day was spent both trying to assess his situation and trying to struggle out of the chains. Most of them he was able to slip off by contorting and twisting his aching body, but some were harder to manage. The ones that hung from his collar, for one, and his muzzle remained stubbornly in place no matter how hard he scratched and twisted against the rocks. He scraped and damaged his scales more then he damaged the metal. Alaine had no illusions about his chances if he couldn't rid himself of the metal. If it remained on him there was no chance he could swim the ocean to reach a more hospitable place and with the muzzle he could not eat or catch food.

It would be damnably annoying if I survived to ocean only to die of starvation. He thought, in bitter amusement.

It was the second day that he was able to find a way to get the muzzle off. An outcropping of obsidian had frozen and at some point been damaged enough that it had formed a jagged looking blade. He spent a long tiring day wedging the make shift blade under his muzzle and tearing at his own scales as he worked it back and forth. The metal that caged his muzzle was secure, but the chains that clipped together around his head were less bulky. What his blunted claws could not too, time and force with the obsidian managed as he scored his cheek and neck a dozen times before the obsidian cut through the chain itself with a clattering noise. The moment that securing strap had come free the metal dropped down from his long muzzle to clatter to the ground.

The collar was more difficult to manage given it was a solid band of metal. With his mouth free, though, he allowed it to stay and instead spent several long days waded into the ocean up to his neck where he could try and capture fish. There was a savage victory and clamping his jaws around still writhing fish and even their cold blood was welcome as he ate whatever he could catch whole. He had long ago sacrificed his pride and he had no compunctions about using his long scraping tongue to seek along the rocks beneath the waves to scoop up mussels to add to his diet. The flesh was cold and unappealing, but it was far far better than the slurry like meals he had been fed by his captors. It was meat that he had caught himself. The lost weight would eventually take its toll, but he had hopes he would be able to leave this place by then.

He had a notion of time now, Aratha's golden eye showed the turn of the day as he explored the place as best that he could. On the first clear morning he saw the island that had been the only home he'd ever known loom in the distance. Its large form was green and promising from a distance, but he knew what was held beneath the mountain. It was too far to swim, not until he was stronger and rid of the collar that would make it nearly impossible to brave the waters. He rested, he slept when he could, fished to ease the cramps in his stomach, and for the first time in his life was able to be his own master. But each day that dawned he would look at the distant island that had given birth to him and felt the anger stirring deep within him as he recalled his fellows with their dull eyes. Or the one eyed dragon who had been so enraged. They were still in hell while he adjusted to the relative freedom offered to him on the ash covered island. Each day that he grew leaner he felt the collar loosening along his neck. One day it would only be a matter of pulling it over his head if he continued on his current diet.

The cold water rushed over his back as he kept his head down beneath the waves where he could use his tongue to search the rocks for anything that might be edible. He walked slowly so as not to risk losing one morsel. He dreamed of a time before the elves where he had known other sorts of food. He remembered the warm rich copper tasting food that had filled his belly until it had been swollen and round, meat that would melt on his tongue as he tore at it. The fish were foul tasting in his mouth. They gave him enough to live on, but not to thrive. He needed fattened meat that would be thick with minerals, bones that he could swallow whole to replenish his scales and hide that would scour his gut clean. He hadn't gotten that with the elves, but the slurry that they had fed was enough to keep him at least marginally healthy to be worked.

Only when he lifted his head to toss back his mouthful of foul fish food, he realized that he wasn't alone in the water any longer. He froze in the act of swallowing as his watcher blinked a few times and tilted its head to one side. For a moment he couldn't breath as he took in the creature that stared at him. It had glossy wet fur that was flattened down along its body, dark on the back and head, pale cream on the belly and chest. Large whiskers bristled from a short muzzle with a broad black nose and deep liquid brown eyes peered at him from over the bridge of its muzzle. It was clothed only in a rough looking material that hugged around its hips and was secured by a broad belt that showed a crusting of where salt water had dried on it once too often. It didn't have the rich clothing that he was accustomed to seeing on the elves or even anything on its strange feet.

"Narrull, raanth ot foth, Aratha." The creature chattered out the strange words that made Alaine bristle and spread his jaws in a venomous hiss. The creature's rounded ears went up and it spread its arms wide. "Solka ot Aratha." He knew only one word from the strange speech. Aratha.

"Aratha has cast me out." He snarled, his voice cracking roughly over the unfamiliar sensation of speaking. "If you want to live, you will leave or I will send you to meet her."

"Elvish?" The creature blinked a few times. "You speak elvish?"

"I said leave!" Alaine tried to roar the words, but his voice was rusty with disuse and it only came out as a rasping snarl.

"Peace, dragon." The creature bounced up onto its footpaws on the rock. "I saw you from my ship and came to see if you were indeed real. It has been a long time since a dragon has been sighted and if one had returned I wished to greet them."

"What do you know of my kind?" The drake bristled and took a step back away from the creature so he could find firmer ground to set his hind paws on. "This is my island! MINE! If you don't wish to be slain you will LEAVE!"

A possessiveness he had never felt before rolled through the ever present anger and he flared his nostrils as the small furred creature kept its, his, hands. The voice didn't have that high pitched annoying sound that female elves had. This was his island, he had found it, nearly killed himself swimming to it and now he would not have it taken from him. Nor would he allow himself to be fooled as his long dead parents had been fooled by a harmless looking creature. He knew better than anyone that a small defenseless creature was never defenseless. The more harmless and helpless they looked, the more likely it was that they had developed insidious ways to defend themselves such as poison or chains or weapons that could be set off from a distance.

"I have no wish to take this island," The creature tilted his head and looked at the sooty covered place. "This is no home for one of your breed or anyone else for that matter; it won't be for a long time. Where did you come from? Are there more of you?"

Alaine hissed at the creature and bared his fangs at the creature. Why did it care if there were more of his kind unless he were planning to attack? The creature could have others waiting for him, ready to capture him to drag him back to his enslavement. The elves would have been fools to come themselves, not after he'd taken the overseer down with him and who knows how many others, had they hired this strange beast to fool him.

"I am Rouro." The creature slowly sat back down on the rock, though his eyes followed the drake as he moved back another step closer to his island. "I'm otterkin. I would help you if you would allow me."

"With chains?" Alaine spat out a ragged laugh. "I know the sort of help small creatures give all too well and the longer you sit there the more I think that you might be tastier then the fish I have been forced to eat."

Rouro shook his head and spread his arms a little and gestured at himself. "I wouldn't taste good, my friend. I am too stringy, but I would offer you another option if you would listen to it?"

Alaine growled and stepped back far enough he was able to sit down in the relative shallows. He felt marginally better now that he was far enough away from the otterkin that he couldn't be reached or netted easily. The rocks that surrounded him were smaller and shorter than the ones further out, there was little chance of an ambush waiting there.

"I would expect that you know about the island there.." Rouro gestured with a paw towards Alaine's home and the drake hissed. The otterkin's eyes softened slightly and he dropped his paw down. "This is an archipelago, a grouping of islands, most of them would be easily flown too from here and you would find better food there, I think. Canthia is the closest one to the east and it is mostly run by herders and a few port towns. That would be where I would go if I were a dragon. It has high hills and is renowned for the goats that live there."

"And a trap waiting there?" Alaine ventured suspiciously with his tail lashing back and forth. The otterkin gave his head a shake and the whiskers bristled forward.

"Not to my knowledge. It's the closest and most desolate. Your kind are not so well loved as you used to be, but the otterkin still remember." The small furred creature stood up again and revealed a thick powerful tail that hung down to his paws. "I would seek out Canthia if I were you, and if I were me as well. It's dead east, barely an hour's flight on a good day."

Alaine winced, but kept his jaws closed at the mention of flight, he need not advertise his weakness to this creature. Weakness could be exploited. He turned his head to look in the direction indicated and the clear blue ocean that spread out before him. He couldn't see any hint of an island, only more ocean, but he wasn't entirely sure if he'd be able to see it from here or not, he had no real understanding of how the ocean worked.

"You said that we are not so well loved anymore..." He trailed off and looked back at Rouro. "Have you seen more of my kind?"

"No." The otterkin's words were flat, but after a moment he gave a smile that bared sharp white teeth. "But I haven't seen any of my kind either. Non-elves are moving on to the continent to the south if they are smart, or they're hunkering down on small islands hiding away. The Honsen Archipelago is no longer the place of wonders that it once was. I suppose it was only a matter of time.... But it is painful to see it happen."

"Elves." Alaine snarled and snapped his teeth in the air at the mention of them. "Do they own the world then?"

"I don't know." Rouro shrugged one shoulder. "The archipelago has always had scattered government and independent, but every port I come to I find more and more elves taxing me because I am otterkin. They don't quite try to imprison me, but they make it uncomfortable to make a profit. There is other talk of peoples they have destroyed or enslaved..." The otterkin trailed off and Alaine tilted his head until he nearly touched his chin to his hated collar.

"Of that I know all too well." Alaine snarled and lashed his tail hard enough to raise a cloud of soot behind him.

Elves. Had they devoured the world when his people had fallen? The otterkin spoke of it as if it were a recent event, but he didn't believe it was. He had no way to judge his own age, but he was an adult and his kind aged very slowly. Had his island been the first to fall? Why did they care about one island and a scattering of gems? Why did they care about any islands when he had heard them speak of an entire country that they ruled? He rumbled to himself and flared his nostrils wide to taste the air.

"They have treated others so. My grandfather remembers when the otterkin were the ambassadors between the Isle's and we were well respected, now they push us towards the slums and filth of their cities." Rouro grimaced. "Others are not so lucky as to be allowed to live."

"Lucky?" Alaine hissed bitter laughter. "I lived, and it is not luck that allowed it. Others of my kind live and there is no luck in it."

"The dragons were the first to fall, or so my grandfather told me. The elves targeted them exclusively, above all others, to humble us. Once.." The otterkin blew out a sigh and shook his head. "Others fell too. The ones that were too dangerous to be allowed a lesser status."

"I don't remember those days." Alaine stiffened a little as he tried to recall the muzzy days of being a hatchling again. "I only know the elves came and many died, the young were kept alive." He barked out a bitter laugh. "We had such luck." The otter winced.

"I would remove the collar if you allow me." Rouro spoke softly, almost too softly to be heard, but the drake twisted his head to glare at the strange creature.

"Why?" Alaine rumbled and fought the urge not to snap at the creature. He didn't trust him or his intentions. It could all be a ploy.

"The metal is silver, elves can't tolerate cold iron, but silver..." Rouro shrugged a shoulder and gave another sharp toothed smile. "Silver is worth money and I would ask the collar as payment for removing it. And because it is the right thing to do."

"What would you do with it?" The drake shifted as his claws scraped against the ground. "Sell it to the elves to grace another dragon's neck?"

"No!" The otterkin's eyes widened. "Trust me or not, I do not hold with such ideas. I will melt it down and sell it off in pieces. You may watch me do it if you wish."

Alaine twitched his scaled hide around the collar and felt it shifting beneath the quivering muscles. To be free of it meant he could get out of here and perhaps find an island that would offer him more hospitality and food then this one. But to do so he'd have to let the little beast near him, near his neck, near the chains that had been used to lead him. It sent a shiver of instinctive distrust down his spine, but it was likely the only way he'd get the solid ring of metal off his neck without continuing to near starve himself on fish.

In the end, he was forced to agree, but only on the condition that the otterkin allow himself to be held in one of the drake's foreclaws while it was done. The small furred beast didn't seem nearly as afraid as he should have been when Alaine's claws wrapped round him and lifted him up to his neck. He barely wriggled as he craned forward and started to fiddle with the collar. It still made the drake fight the urge to snap his head around and put an end to the beast. And it didn't help that up close he smelled deliciously warm and tempting to his half starved body. If he had been able to feed as he should it never would have crossed his mind, but he was so hungry, so terribly hungry. By the time Rouro let the collar drop from his neck Alaine's jaws were watering with the imagined taste of the sweet furred meat on his tongue and the rush of blood. It took all of his hard won self control to place the otter down so he could retrieve the heavy metal collar.

"Alaine, my name is Alaine." He forced the words out of his mouth to stop himself from giving into the urge to snatch the little creature up again.

"It is an honor to meet you, Alaine." Rouro bobbed his head as he rolled the heavy metal towards the edge of the shore.

"You cannot swim with that, it is too heavy." The drake watched as the otterkin began nudging the metal into the water and turned to grin wide enough that his upper muzzle crinkled back.

"I'm otterkin, we can swim with anything we touch, it is why we are such fine sailors." Rouro bobbed his head up and down. "Will you go to Canith?"

"I have little choice if you are to be believed." Alaine turned his head to look at his home island and tried to see past the haze of greenery that ran along the edges of it. "There would be little good returning to where I came from."

"Sensible, but dragons have always been known to sensible." The otterkin looked pleased. "I sail between Canith, Port Elan and Nancheska. I'm bound to Nancheska, but I will return to Canith sooner rather than later."

"So you wished me where you could find me." The drake growled in annoyance, though his suspicions were gradually being soothed the longer the otterkin made no move to harm him.

"If you do not wish to be found, I cannot find you." Rouro shrugged slightly. "I am a great believer in allowing others their space, had it not been so long since I've heard of a dragon here, I would not have stopped when I saw you. But my curiosity has always been my greatest fault and it has not killed me yet."

"You have helped me." Alaine tried to keep his tone polite as the otter nudged the metal collar and chains into the water so they were rolled under the waves.

"And you have repaid me in silver." Rouro wrinkled his muzzle in a smile. "I will be in Canith near the eastern port in sixteen days, if you wish to seek me out I would see it as a favor to know that you reached there safely."

"Why do you care for my safety?" The drake tilted his head as the otter began to wade into the water and paused to give him a strange look. "I am not otterkin, I am the farthest thing from what you are."

"Because, we are all of us alive, and it is a shameful world where those that live care nothing for others. Your kindred once supported that lofty goal and many have not forgotten it." Rouro waded into the next wave and gave his sleek head a bob. "If you do not meet with me in Canith, head south towards the frozen continent, get out of elven waters and Honsen. They have no use for the otterkin so they drive us out where they can, you, you have seen the use they have for your kind. Good luck, Alaine. "

"Good luck, Rouro." Alaine repeated automatically as the small furred form suddenly dropped into the water and the metal collar flashed beneath the ocean.

The drake reared back on his haunches and lifted his head to see the dark slender form powering beneath the water with the collar behind him. The otterkin carried it as if it weighed nothing and barely showed any effort as he slid out of sight between the rocks with his prize. Alaine had to strain to look further and see the bobbing boat that was rocking peacefully among the waves. It was far enough to make him wonder what sort of magic the small creature had to brave the water as it had just to see a dragon. He had not lived with his parents long enough to know the rest of the world as others did. He knew that there were more species' around then just himself, but he had never put any thoughts into who they were or what.

He watched the distant form of the otterkin dragging the heavy collar onto the small seeming craft and drew his eyes away so he could shake himself out. For the first time in his life he was no longer wrapped in chains and metal, his body was free and carried only his own weight. He felt light as he lifted his head back and snorted softly up at the blue blue sky. He no longer had to stay here where there was no hunting and little to eat, he could move on and find someplace where he could grow stronger. It didn't matter that he lived if he remained this weak beast that he was now with scales that couldn't protect him, he needed to be well fed with a hide impervious to any blow. He needed to grow horns and spines instead of the malformed bumps that had formed along his back and head.

He had seen his own reflection on the small pool in the middle of the island and it had made him feel sick as he peered at himself. His muzzle was too long and narrow, the horns that should have risen from his head like a crown were lumps covered in scale. His wings had looked like dried tattered skins clinging to sticks on his back, not the might pinions of a predator of the air. He lacked even the smallest defense that he might have against an enemy, but he could change that. He had grown up listening to his father and mother crooning their songs of how a dragon kept themselves healthy. He would eat well and gorge himself, he would bask in the open air and sun and he would find rich minerals packed in the earth where he could. He would shed the old scale and grow new horns, he would pray that they would grow straight and true so he no longer looked like a hulking shadow of a dragon, but a dragon in truth. He would need a safe haven to do so, and Canith was his only option.

Rouro could speak of going south away from the elves and their creeping taint, but that was for those who had not experienced all that the foul creatures could do. They left because they believed they'd find peace, but what peace was there with these creatures destroying everything they touched? And would should he do if he should find shelter in the south? He could not live to mate on the air and sire fine eggs, he could not, even, live to be a scholar in the halls of his parents, but he could live for his vengeance. He could live to tear apart what the elves had built on his homeland and wipe away the stains of their reign. He could bring them death and terror as they had brought it to his parents. A low purr vibrated his throat in a rasping sound as he stepped deeper into the water and pointed his head to the east. He would be death. He would be fear. He would be hunger and vengeance. He would be the thing that they spoke of in hushed tones as he destroyed their mines and freed his fellows.

He pushed into the water until it lapped around his neck and the ocean currents lifted his body up in a cruel mimicry of flight. He used his powerful back legs to push himself through the water and spread his aching wings so he no longer had to support his weight. He was too broken to be a true dragon, he knew that, but that did not mean he did not serve a purpose. Rouro had spoken of the kindness of his kindred, and perhaps they were. They had surely been kind to the elves who had spoken of peace, but kindness would not serve him here. He had been twisted into the shape the elves had wanted, and perhaps his goddess had shunned him for what he was, but there was one who would not shun him. There was one who would see his malformed body and welcome him with wide spread talons and eagerness.

The dark god. The black face of the moon and the sun that has gone black. The shadow that his parents spoke of as reverently as they did the goddess that they adored. One did not worship Oran, one placated him and knew that he was ever there. He was there when brother slew brother, when war was raged or death came. He was the god to which his kind would swear blood oaths too when the unspeakable came to pass and they would hunt down their own kind to save many. He was a god that took the dark things in the world to him to keep them from those that tread the path of Aratha. He had been young when he learned of the gods, but he recalled that much at least. Oron would accept the blood that Alaine would spill and revel in it. He would accept a tattered flightless dragon, for he fed on darker things then joy and air.

"ORON!!! DO YOU SEE ME?!" Alaine roared out over the ocean as his paws churned in the water towards the east. Let others run, he had nothing to run too.