So tell me, what is it that you want? | Open |

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Painted white pillars dug deep into the thick wet sand as the able bodied brute pulled himself along the shores edge. His muscles rolled underneath a thick ebony coat, sweat trickled down his side clinging to the furry underside of his barrel. The light waves crashed up against him as he travelled leaving scattered salt patches that dried like scars along his frame.  The sun was beginning to kiss the islands peak throwing the beach into an array of colour, chasing away the nights darkness and in turn pushing Zanbiar out of its glare. The higher the sun rose the further up the beach he moved. His pace remained even and consistent even as the sand offered greater resistance. It was a punishing pace to hold and yet he didn't pause for a moment, his breath misted in the nights cold hold as he breathed heavily, nostrils flaring.  He made it almost up the length of the beach before the morning had finally taken hold. Allowing his pace to slacken he lowered his skull and stretched out. Long limber legs flicked out in a earth covering stride as he walked to the place where sand met forest. Every morning before the sun rose he could be found along these sand, working at a punishing pace to maintain his body and awaken his mind. Then without fail as the sun reached its peak he would disappear into the forest and not be seen again till the light faded.  Today was no exception as he moved steadily, confidently into the scrub. Stoping only when he was deep enough in for the light to no longer filter down through the trees spread.