Water is a strange thing. It blesses, but it also curses. It heals, but also kills. With too much of it you drown, but with too little you dehydrate, and die. It can build up a civilization, but with a single wave, can wipe it off the face of Ea. A drop is precious in the desert, but a drop, when coupled with thousands of others in a storm, is despised.

A rainstorm had passed through the area last night, though the mild spring temperature dried most of the ground near the shore. A boulder provided the seating for one young man, though. His garment was simple - A pair of double-strapped brown sandals shod his feet. Somewhat baggy brown linen pants were pulled over his legs, secured with a black-leather belt. A tightly-fitted, short-sleeved beige tunic was worn just overtop of a cerulean blue shirt, the cuffs reaching to his wrists, but hidden part way - a pair of bracers covering most of his wrist. Over all of this he wore a plain, drab-gray cloak, which fell as a shoulder-cloak did, covering most of his right side. No weapons were obvious, nor did he seem to carry much at all. His hair was a layered brown, various strands toppling over eachother in an almost messy arrangement. His eyes, a rich, emerald-green, settle to either side of a rounded-nose. His teeth hold a pearlish shine to them, however rarely seen. A red scarf, wrapped several times around his neck and mouth, completely conceal his facial features from the nose down. His build looks to be lean, and well-cared for. Sinuous muscles lace his arms and legs, though overall, he comes off as less-than spectacular in terms of muscle mass.

Resting on the boulder, he doesn't seem to be doing much except for waiting. His feet are extended over the ledge of the boulder, dangling only a few inches from the surface of the lake. His hands are relaxed back, one finger steadily tapping the rock underneath him. From behind, it does only look as though he's waiting. From the front, however, his eyes are shut, and he seems to be in deep concentration and thought. Every now and then, in the midst of his concentration, a splash of water splashes out onto the boulder from his tapping finger - freezing only a moment later when the finger comes back down on it. By the time the heat melts the out-of-place ice, another splash forms, restarting the process. This goes on for some time - without notice of the man.

The sun, recently risen over the horizon, beats down mercilessly - though thankful enough, a steady breeze is wafting in from the lake, providing comfort from the uncommon warmth of the spring day. The lake cast a steady tide in on the western shore, a few of the larger waves lapping up on the boulder the man rests on. A few lazy clouds drift overhead, offering nothing from their bowels save relief from the sun overhead. The rest of the sky holds a clear blue din to it. Surprising beauty rests in nature.

His eyes drifted open as he finished meditating. Reaching into the folds of his vest, he procured a little, black leatherbound book. Flipping it open to the first open page, he began to write.

Water is the source of life. But water can also be the bane of life, should there be too much. It can be either a blessing or a curse - but this day I will choose it to be a blessing. A balance -must- be struck, and if I am to find that balance than I must experience it. My travels will not be fruitless. Surely ancients know of these things of which I write. Surely this is not in vain. I do not want what..power I have..to control me. I will find a balance. I must.

-C

And with that, he shut the book, stuffing it carefully into the fold of his vest.

The thing not quite lupine and not quite monster that swam in the water, hunting for morsels of flesh in order to feed a craving that it had long forgotten and could no longer properly interpret, seethed as it's latest catch escaped. The fur hampered its ability to move, the claws so elegant and eloquent in the air almost useless in the depths of the sometimes crystal and sometimes muddy lake. And this idiotic need to breathe! Who went about and decided such inane things for living beings? It was so unutterably ridiculous. And yet it was bonded to the lupine now and the lupine's death would be the End. Or the End until it found a new and better host- which seemed unlikely. Fear was what fed it and upon Fear it would subsist. This particular creature's Fear was glorious and it doubted it would find the like again.

Phear the Nightmare decided. Yeeeees...

As fast it darted, the fish was faster and the lupine-thing was left without a dinner much as it had been left without both a lunch and breakfast. Not particularly worried for it had spent the last few days in such a state without any particularly horrendous things happening to it, it dived again, looking for sustenance of the body so that it might continue to seek sustenance of the Mind. Brushing past the reeds, the weeds, the rocks and dirt and ignoring that painful, burning near the chest it continued to hunt- continued to search. It was a creature of the Mind and being of the Mind it had little experience with the pangs and regrets of the body. But it learned. And the more it learned the faster it became. And there was much to learn- it's host, this 'Geis Coldfur' had a wealth of knowledge that no doubt far exceeded the knowledge of what he thought he had known. Or at least what he allowed himself to acknowledge. Shaped like a black vault made of grinning, lupine skulls the 'forbidden knowledge' tantalized the mind parasite. Tortured it as it sought to find a key- as it had already discovered a key to everything else from the meanest to the leanest of the host's experiences.

The host had fought and eaten before but knowing and doing were world's apart and the nightmare could not quite grasp at the subtle odors that danced on the wind nor the meaning of the useless rumblings in the air and thus it could not hunt as it's host might have. Given enough time it knew it would be able but it had taken it's host _years_ to read the wind and the air in such a manner and those were years that it's host did not have. And it would not give it's newfound sense of Freedom and Purpose back to the host for such a trivial thing as nourishment. So it fished with it's eyes and tried it's best to feed as it's host might have in the lands of the cold North.

And then the eyes that were not eyes widened and focused. There was another Mind here. Another potential Candidate. One that could dream and one that could become subject to Nightmares. The lupine grinned. It was also one that could be Eaten. It went looking for it.