Vala'keer wearily, tiredly, swam up to shore of an island. Mysterious, it was, for being way out in the ocean, but he only noticed it until the ground came up from underneath him. Cramped and exhausted, he debated on whether or not to just stay on the island for a little bit, and very shortly, he pulled himself up on a beach.

His equipment weighed on him like his thoughts, dragging him down and threatening to drown him under its burden. He forced himself as far as he could, making it only a hundred meters from the edge of the vast, clear, salt swamp, otherwise known as the ocean. Tired to the bone and ready to fall into the darkness of sleep, Vala'keer turned his body, flipping himself over so that he could see the sky. He carefully, painfully, stretched his limbs and sat up, just now noticing how cold it was. Had he been in his right state, he would've seen a little tent only a hundred feet to his left, all quiet.

As it was, he tried to roar, shedding his sorrows. Dissappointingly, it turned into a croak, and he fell into a deep sleep, right on the beach. Too tired to do anything else, he slept, regaining strength.