The only noise in this, the dead of night, was the crashing sound of water hitting rock. The thick arouma of fruit lingered in the air. Moon was high in deep ebon blanketand it's brilliant shine reflected on Oceanica. Waves crept their way to the rock and sand. A silent night. A dead, silent night. The only creature whom would stur at such an hour, was Ghrham.

Quite.

The Emporer himself dared to travel at such this hour, for it was his routine. He rarely is one to sleep. Ghrham finds it safest when the moon is high and the sun no where to be found. When day does break, Ghrham is only in the darkest of his haven.
He is a tricky sort. Very complex. Rare. Never usually is he good at small talk. It has been so long since he has talked with anyone. Then again, he can't even recall how long ago "so long" was. Ghrhamcan't even remember the day he sawt light. All he can remember is dark, deep, complex happenings, that he doesn't even know really happened. Ghrham is very two sided, not to be confused with two faced. Ghrham goes around acting like any normal stud, and then, in one second, he changes and it seems all memory has faded and a new persona has burst. But, of course we need to forget this. It is not that important. At least not right now.
Daggers autographed the grains, pushing lightly up against his pistions. Beautiful crystal blue-grey flecks located the gold up above. It made the King stop.

Gold?

Gold does not just hang up in the sky for anyone. It's usually a sign. Especially if you see it in full view. What did it symbolize? it symbolized something, but what exactly? He continued on. A little minor thing such as this should not bother him so. However, it did. it dug into him. He didn't know the reasons. The facts. As Lord Ghrham continued his routine along the beahcside, mist came from his nostrials and a sigh realesed from his maw. Again he stopped. Thoughts raced from his mind.

'So many questions gone un-answered for so long now. At least...I think...'

A puzzeled look stirred up on his face. It was complicated for Ghrham to function. He often longed for another to help him move along. A mate. A love.

Love.
An adorable word that longs for affection. Even if the word love brings one pleasure, the word itself is alone. Maybe that is why things always end up so a disaster in the end. Never does another go out and dig for love at first. When it does happen however, it can't be stopped.
Ghrham pondered this. He had made up a saying that kept him keep his sanity:

'With 5 or more comes great trouble. With 4 or 3 comes little happiness. With 2 comes paradise lost. With 1 come intelligence.'

Whereas this may not seem much sense to others, it kept Ghrham thriving.
Just then, and image came to mind.

'With 5 or more.'

Maybe now with upon coming to this new land, he should claim it as his own? He took in no new scent of another, so why not be claimed as his own? And so he shall.

One single dagger crashed the ground and it was branded. this land sha;ll be forever his. As Ghrham looked around at his new found glory, a small noise ruffled in the bushes.

'Who's there?