Darkness clouded Caspian's mind as his black plated boots and black armor shuffled through the grass. "What have I done?" He asked to himself, on the verge of the salty tears that would soon fall like the dew dripping upon the trees this fine morning. He had not lived what could have been called the greatest life to be lived in the world, nor had he helped all of those that he should have. He was of a different world in it's own, and he knew it, he felt alone in the small realm he now lived in, for, it was nothing near as big as where he had lived in another life. Why must I have lived my life like I did? Things should not have been handled by me the way they should have, weapons don't end wars, humility does. How could I have not seen that before, just that one drop of humility could have taken away the sorrow I have now. Today, I want to die, I want to end this miserable life I have, ending it would be such a reward, if only I could. The Devil's plague still runs thick through my veins, and should I die, I would only resurrect as the very scum I hunted.

Power was not the only love that could be had, Aenarion knew that now, he knew his mistakes, but he was unable to clean up the past. He was also unable to save those whom's lives were lost to his hands, to his sword, to his thoughts. The pain that could have been taken away without him ever existing was to it's extremes, and he knew it. He knew that no matter where he had tried to help, he was always wounded or struck at, which caused anger to dwell within him. The curses, the many curses that were in him and of him, were things that one could only wish to get rid of, that one could only wish to stop. Those curses were not just physical, but mental, anger and melancholy had always brewed within him, and would never come out, not even with the simmer and boil of happiness.

Drawing his breath inward, and then letting it out, taking in the morning dew and watching as the rabbits and butter-flies moved over the new day, the coming of the sun and it's light. To him, this was all shadowed by his past, he could no longer look upon the future with happiness, but with melancholy, the pain he knew he would brings was not just potential, it was very real. By leaning and picking a fresh flower from the morning by it's roots so it still lived, he discovered something, not a item, but something within' him. You must take in the bad the the good, but, how do I take in the bad with the good if there is no good in anything. I help people, they die, I get hurt, I go to a place where I feel it would be peaceful to be in, I end up fighting masses of my own people, kinslaying them without a second thought. Why must life be so disoriented, and without the fruit of enjoyable life, I wish I could have just lives a simple life. He sighed once again, a grim expression burned upon his face as he looked at the sun, his eyes burning from it, but not halting.

The clear glade in which he stood in seemed especially bathed in the sunlight that the morning always seemed to bring, along with hope, but, new days to Aenarion only brought pain and suffering to those he came to know and love. Everything seem to make absolutely no sense other then the fact that in breaking himself in these thoughts, like he was doing now, he only dug himself deeper into the emotional hole that had been there since birth. He could not fix it, his Father could not have fixed it, and no one every will be able to fix it, he saw the negative in life, the positive in death, that was not how he was raised, he was raised to be an optimist, but look at him, standing here, wishing he were dead. He wondered, to be honest to himself, what anything was worth, why was gold worth so much, it was only a scrap of metal that had a shine when you polished it. He sat down in the glade, unworried on how dirty or wet her got in the dewy grass.

Forcing himself to think of something else, he went to his thoughts of his mother, his first and only true friend. She has always accepted me, and she seems as if she always will, the point in her life, it seems, is to keep me standing here to fulfill my purpose, which is unknown. I just wish that I could see the good in me that she does, I hit her, and she dives over me to help cover me from pain and loss. Why must she be so helpful, so loving, so tender, eight or nine years has passed since we met, that day I decided to go on a bit of a rampage. I wish I had not done that, regret, however, is the truth on how I feel, not the permanent. He could still be changed back to what he was, he was open to any ideas that would be able to put his grief in the back of his dark mind which brooded in me my first twenty or thirty years of life, the ones that would consume me with anger for an eternity. He would live either forever living, or, forever dead, it was complete upon is own record on what he did or didn't do. With the simple sigh and the crushing blow of wether or not he could survive that long on either accords had just hit him.

He felt the morning breeze upon his face, and he could feel his tears being swept back and into the ground as the wind did so. He heard the sounds of the animals in the forest, the brushing of the leaves of a nearby tree whom seemed to tower above all the rest. He did not ponder the maginificent tree with a second look, however, for, he was trying to figure things out in his mind that were too capable of destroying him when he did not want to or keeping him alive when he did not want to. He took it all in, the world, his mind, the smells of the flowers in the glade, he could also feel the terror of what would happen should had never done anything in the love of others. Which, he truely should not be brooding over, because, he had done some good, which was the only thing he could cling to, though he failed each time, he always had that. Wether or not he have that forever, however, was truely up to him.

The man was not alone. As he mused to himself of the past and the possibilities of his future, a small, almost insignificant being was walking along through the grass, a set of pipes within it's grip. Rising no more than two inches or so from the ground in height, the pixie was a frail-looking creature, slender as a willow branch... But it looked human enough. Two legs, two arms, a head, hair, ten fingers and ten toes... Definitely humanoid, save for those wings that seemed to sprout from the center of it's back.

The gauzey, glimmering limbs attached to the vertebrae between the pixie's shoulder blades, true wings through and through. They were veined with silver, much like a dragonfly's wings, and they caught the light every once in a while, a flash of sunlight glancing off them brightly. They were always moving, even when the pixie stood still, always opening and closing slowly, for some reason... It was the small being's way of breathing. The wings pumped oxygen around it's system, like it's heart would, dispersing the precious element into the little creature's blood stream, which it's actual heart kept moving through the normal beating method. The limbs attached to this little pixie's back were very important in it's way of life, and, thusly, it was very protective of them.

With ebony tresses of silk that fell past it's shoulders, a somewhat curvacious frame, and a ragged gown of a faded gray hue that didn't fall past midthigh at the very most, it was clearly a female - if you could even get a good enough look at the miniscule being to discern these defining characteristics, anyway. Her eyes, should one have been able to make them out, in all their tiny elegance, were almond shaped, tilted upwards at the corners ever so slightly to give her an exotic, almost Mediterranean appearance, but the pale skin that seemed to hold a luster of it's very own spoke of a more Northern heritage. Or perhaps, she was just pixie - for they came in all different styles, each one terribly beautiful and wild in it's own way. All in all, she was a foreign-looking little being, holding herself with in a delicate, dance-like step. Every movement seemed planned, prewritten, incredibly smooth. Each motion seemed to flow into the next with an unrivaled delicacy, like the movements of any famous dancer, carrying her along with an astounding demeanor of fragility.

But don't be fooled - this pixie is always up to no good, like many of her kind. Except now, it seemed. Apparently she was lost in her own thoughts as well, whatever they may have been, for she hadn't had pipes in her hands for the longest of times. As she took a step, her wings picked up their pace, beating rapidly and slicing through the air, carrying her upwards. She didn't go far, though, choosing to perch in the center of a particularly large leaf, legs crossed Indian-style as she raised the set of pipes to her lips and began to play.

Clearly, she didn't think anyone else would be around to hear the haunting melody that ensued, the tragically beautiful music that seemed to writhe in the air with a life of it's own. But, quite obviously, she was mistaken. For the time being, she didn't realize her error, remaining lost in her own thoughts and the music. Being a creature of nature, she knew the secrets of the senses, and how to get to them most; but her favorite way had always been through music.

Caspian strode along, lost in his train of thought. Everything seemed like a massive blur of the past. Yet he still felt the urge to punish himself. Suicide was the answer, but could he help make up for his wrongs then? No, it would just resolve in an eternal life in hell. The Goddess of Life would think nay of that, saying destroying something of her creation would be wrong. Well, she was right. The life of Caspian was a gift from the Goddess of Life. She was the creator, customizer, and the destroyer. If she chose to create life, her bidding was law. She would customize the life of the human, elf, demon, or whatever being it may be. And when it came to death, it would be her turn to end it. Yes, Caspian could not kill himself, for that was the Goddess's job, not his.

He made his way along the sandy shore. Out yonder was the grassy plains, and yet he felt a disturbance. Not a totally evil disturbance, but a disturbance in general. Almost as if evil, but at the temporary moment, good. He could sense the temporary warmth from inside his mind. Utterly inhuman, he listened closely, trying to materialize the feeling with the sense of hearing. He almost had something, but no, it had gone.

After awhile, he redirected himself in the direction of the grassy plains. He noticed the look of damp dew scattered across the endless row of short green plants. Insects made their homes; a poorly-builts bundle of twigs and grass. Hundreds of them lay hidden beneath the bushes away from predators. Caspian started to hear something now. It wasn't as voice, it was, it was, music! Yes, it was music. The sweet melody rang in Caspian's ears as he started to rock back and forth. Bong! he hit himself on the head. Something was going on. It was like he was being hypnotized. Amazingly awkward, he brushed it off and followed the sound until he got to the most delightful sight he ever had laid eyes on.

Standing before Caspian's eyes was a pixie playing it's musical intstrument in a graceful tone. It sounded amazing, very amazing. It started to make Caspian think. Normally, pixies are good at flying, not instrumental music. Well, he guessed that this was a different kind of pixie. He made a slightly stern, but almost friendly greeting. "Greetings. I am Caspian the Dragon Slayer." He said, shaking himself out of the hypnotization. "What is your name, might I ask?" Caspian said in the ever so mannerly tone.

She'd been so into the music that her eyes had been closed, body swaying slightly along with the slow, melodious beat. At the sound of a being much larger than she, though, she jumped, the pipes letting out an ear-splitting shriek as her music was cut off suddenly. She peered up at the man, frowning faintly. Who did he think he was, interrupting her music-making? In her mind, he'd committed a heinous crime indeed.

'Caspian the Dragon-slayer.' She scoffed slightly at his oh-so-heroic name, her eyes rolling exagerratedly before she glanced at him once more, her eyes of a clear, icy blue fixing upon him critically. Her wings began to beat rapidly, moving so quickly as they sliced through the air that their shimmering silver forms were no more than grayish blurs at the best, lifting her upwards from her seat upon the flora of the plains. She'd taken to the air for the most simple of reasons: a quick getaway, should she need one.

"...I'm Ana. Just Ana."

Her eyes were faintly narrowed, and as she hovered in the air, her wings pumping incredible amounts of oxygen into her body and thus powering the muscles in her back that forced them to such a quick movement, she crossed her arms over her chest. The faintest of frowns had darkened her exotic features, dimming the light from her luminescent skin a bit as she eyed the man, clearly not trusting him. Why should she? He was a stranger, and she didn't even trust many of her own kind - let alone a human. They always wanted something - to make pixies their pets or familiars, to steal pixie dust, to use pixies in lanterns... Anything remotely humanoid that wasn't a creature of the forest was highly untrustworthy, in Ana's book.

Caspian sensed many things while eyeing the pixie. 'Ana', the so-called pixie, seemed irritated with Caspian. Her eyes rolling were definitely a sign of frustration and untrustworthiness. But Caspian was confused. Why would the pixie be so jumpy with him? How could Caspian hurt a pixie? There were most of the time kind and gentle, never to be fierce beings. It would be a sin to do so.

And another thing Caspian noticed. The pixie had given an expression of exagerration when he had mentioned his name. "Ana the Pixie. I see, well I have noticed several things from you. When I walked up, you stared at me in an awkward way, obviously giving me the impression that you think I am of the race of a human. You should never judge one by its cover. I, in fact, am a High Elf. Humans are resourceful and intelligent, but their knowledge and wisdom of the world lacks tremendously." Caspian stated, rambling on what he had noticed.

Caspian still stared at the pixie while a long pause was distributed. Finally, Caspian broke the silence once more. "Another thing, I thought it wise to mention that I was a dragon slayer after saying my name was 'Caspian'. I did this so you wouldn't think I was a evil viking or deadly beserker. Some dragons are harmful beasts, and deserve to be killed. So by saying I was a dragon slayer, it told you that I was not evil, and had come in peace." Caspian went on and on. It was like the pixie had something against him. Like Caspian said, not all dragons are harmful. Only some were. Yet the pixie was wrong in thinking that all elves and humans were bad. And how wrong she was.

Correction: Pixies were anything but gentle and kind. As a matter of fact, pixies were stubborn, obnoxious creatures, with strong, fiery personalities. Most people had no problem harming pixies, as all they did was play pranks and cause trouble, most of the time; thusly, pixies trusted few people outside of their tribe. Her palely azure eyes narrowed faintly as she spoke, her arms still crossed over her chest. A snort of incredulity was heard from her tiny form as he explained that elves were supposedly better than humans at dealing with pixies.. Oh, how wrong he was.

"Yeah, right! I know plenty of my friends that were snatched up and used in lanterns at elvish parties! What makes you any different from those elves?"

She paused, still hovering in midair. Her wings, at this point, were no more than a grayish blur, their silvery veins indiscernable from the background of green her tiny frame was set against in his view. They sliced through the air behind her, her slender form rising and lowering ever so slightly as she seemed to hang in thin air, wings holding her in place about 6 feet above the ground.

"As to your slaying of dragons, plenty of them are good and kind! Just as many of them help people as pillage! I despise killers of anything in general. Everything has a right to live!"

He'd aroused her fiery temper, despite his attempts to explain himself. In fact, his longwindedness only annoyed her further. She disliked people that took too long to explain a single fact - it was a waste of precious time, to be sitting around talking or sitting around listening to someone talk. As a creature purely of nature, she knew the value of life, and thus, she liked to live every moment of it, to never waste an instant on boring, mundane, or irrelevant matters.

Caspian eyed the ill-tempered pest. He didn't want to frighten her, nor do battle with her. He was just enjoying her music until she became snobby about it. Caspian's anger rose to the top level. He thought it unwise to mock someone like him. A little pixie mocking a powerful dragon slayer, absolutely foolish. "Ah, so I have met a complaining and ill-tempered pixie. Not out of the ordinary. But lack of hearing? Sh, now that is unusual. Now if you were listening, little demon, you would know that I said only some dragons were evil. Not all, just some." Caspian stated as he still kept his eyes on the pixie.

Caspian was now transitioning from a sorrowful mood into an irritated. No pixie would boss him around. "And another thing about dragons. They are killers, and it doesn't seem as you despise them? Yeah, I didn't think so. Now, about this slaying of pixies and putting them in lanterns. Not all elves are evil. Exactly what I said about the dragons. I'm not like that. Trust me." Caspian said.

He still eyed the pixie, hoping to change her thoughts about him. Irritation, frustration; the two things swirming in his mind. "Pixie, I can't force you to feel comfortable with me. I am a scary guy. And you are allowed to keep distance. But may I please just sit down and enjoy your music?" Caspian asked, in the ever so polite way.

Ana just eyed the "dragon slayer" right back, arms crossed and those icy blue eyes narrowed warily as she watched him. At the moment, the fiery little pixie was resisting the urge to hiss at him. Yes, pixies hissed. Scary little things. She'd stuffed her set of pipes into her belt, or string, rather; obviously she wasn't going to be using them again 'til this was settled.

"Dragons were made to eat meat. I meant unneccesary killers of anything in general. You can't blame a dragon for getting food; I can, however, blame you for blaming them for getting food."

She was still hovering neatly, rising and sinking slowly in the air as her wings beat, fast enough to give off the faintest of humming sounds - very much like a hummingbird's wings did when in flight.

"And why in the hell should I trust you? What reason have you given me to trust you? Absolutely none. And no! I don't play music for killers, killer!"

That was when she proved the rudeness of pixies. She spat. Yes, she was immature, but think about it. She was still an adolescent pixie, the equivalent of a human teenager. Thinking before doing was a foreign concept to her still. So anyway... She spat at him, the little glob of pixie saliva going much farther than you'd expect - it'd easily hit in between the eyes, if he didn't move quick enough.

You have to understand, that music is a very sacred thing to pixies in general. Letting someone hear the hauntingly beautiful tunes was a sign of honor, of respect - something that it took a lot of work to gain from pixies, and this man had only gone in the opposite direction with little Ana.

Caspian grew with irritation and anger. He grabbed his trident about to kill the pixie in one swing. But thought better of it. I must prove to this pixie that I am not just a killer. But how could I do that with someone like her? Hard little rat. He thought to himself. How he wanted to kill her so badly. Untrue statements and ridiculous thought she possesed. It was propesterous.

"Pixie, I could have killed you in one swing, but I didn't. Anger grows inside me easily, and it is hard to dematerialize it. But I will prove to you it can be done." He promised the pixie, still frustrated. He was definitely determined to show he could do it. The bloodlust had grown to the top level, but soon faded after a few minutes of calming down.

"Ah, and must we argue about dragons? I said some dragons are evil, not all. Some dragons will go beserk and go on a killing rampage. THat is my job to stop them. I don't just go around killing every dragon I see. I observe it first and guide it back into the wild. In fact, I kill the evil ones and help the innocent ones. I'm not that evil." He said, trying to soften up the pixie. Currently, he did not hate the pixie with all his guts. He wanted to make friends. It was like every friend was resourceful for a certain thing. Pixies; good companions, greta light source, and amazing musicians.

"I would like to prove I'm worthy by helping you out. Is there anyone who has threatened you, made you scared, or has plainly pissed you off?" He said, asking the pixie of her past. "Maybe this beast or person was too big for you to handle? I am large, very large. I will bring back this prson or beast to you and you can tell me what you want me to do with it. If you would like to talk to it first, then that is how it will be done. If you would like me to kill it, then it shall be done. So, what is your will?" He asked in the ever so friendly tone.

The pixie's eyes widened, but not out of suprise. She was angry. Her entire body was quivering at this point, her eyes giving off a raging icy blue glow. He was offering her skills as a mercenary!? Trying to bribe her to be his friend?! How dare he think she was that low, that debasing of herself, that she'd ever hire someone to do her dirty business for her. And how dare he insinuate that she was too small to take care of her own dirty business!

"How.. How DARE you!!"

She wasn't trying to prove anything to this man, unlike he. He'd promised he would show her that he wasn't going to hurt her, whereas she... Well, she didn't try to change herself for anyone, especially some stuck-up dragon slayer who thought he could do anything.

Her wings were buzzing angrily from the speed they were moving at, at this point, giving off a sound similar to that of a bumble bee. She was pissed off, now, and she got right up into his face, her tiny form shorter than the length of his nose and about two inches from that particular part of his face. Her eyes were still giving off that tempermental glow, narrowed to dangerous slits, now.

"I don't need anyone to do my dirty business for me, and I can not believe that you just tried to BRIBE me into a truce, or sorts! You're an arrogant, egotistical barbarian of an elf, and I positively loathe the fact that I've wasted my time arguing with a lowlife such as yourself."

Not about to let him off the hook at that, she'd grab one of the three pouches at her side, opening it with her thumb while tugging it free, and in one fluid motion, using the same jerk of her wrist that she used to dislodge it from her belt, she tossed the whole thing right into his face. Sadly for him, she'd chosen her green pouch, which acted as a sort of pepper spray type of thing - except much stronger than pepper spray.

It'd blind him for a few hours instead of a few minutes, should even a few granules of the stuff come into contact with his eyes, and whereever it hit his skin, angry, painful welts would arise as the skin was burnt. Yes... It was a form of powdered acid, one that wouldn't affect pixies. None of the powders in her pouches would, since they'd been created by the same little creatures that used them. After she'd emptied her pouch into his face, she'd dart away through the air... Hopefully.

Umbra walked through the forest. Her cloak hid her face as she looked around. She felt a little tired, she was up about an hour before dawn, her nightmare had resurfaced again. This time it was different, she had not woke up in a sweat screaming. She took a deep breath and sighed. It was nice to be up early but she felt like she needed sleep. And for her sleep was not an easy thing to have. As she walked the morning dew wet her pant leg, leaving a cold damp feeling on her ankle. She began to hear voices as she walked and suddenly one of them sounded angry. She sprinted towards the voices and found a pixie who appeared to be no more than a foot tall(although she had been wrong before) throwing a powder on a man. She streached and held her hands behind her head, "This is something you do not see every day...A pixie picking on someone seven times her size." she said with a smirk. It was in fact funny to her that someone so small would be so bold as to do something to someone who could easily flatten her with a swing of their arm.

Caspian was blinded, yes blinded by a pixie. But they were mischieveous, the little runts. Caspian grew with anger. He was right, not her. Surely there would be someone that was 10 times her size that had tried to squash her like a bug. And oh how Caspian wanted to kill the pixie. "Ok, I deserve that." Caspian said, wiping the last of the pixie dust from his eyes. He was going to prove his honesty to her, whether through pain or peace.

"Ma'am, please, I did not mean to offend you. Surely there must have been something that could have tried to lock you up in a lantern or something. You must have someone that has displeased you at least more than me." Caspian said, treating her like a princess. Hey, what better way to get through the thick head of a pixie than softening them up. "Once again, forgive me. It was none of my business. I was only trying to help." Caspian said.

There was a long pause there for a moment. Niether of them talked or even made a sound. Then, Caspian broke the silence. "What is it, what is it that I can do to make you trust me? I only want peace with you. Don't you see? I'm a dragon slayer, meaning normally I would have killed you when you threw that dust. But I didn't cause I am determined to show you that you can have my trust." Caspian said, having a rather desperate face. "I ask you once more, what is it that you want so I can just measly just sit down for a few minutes and listen to your music?" Caspian last asked.

...The pixie dust would blind him for hours, as was stated before. Since the powder had gotten into his eyes, he wouldn't be able to see for quite a while, and since it had gotten into his eyes, it can be assumed that it had hit him in the face, as well. To reiterate, the powder acted much like an acid, burning and leaving painful, angry welts on the skin of any being (apart from a pixie) it touched. So Caspian's face was covered in sensitive, burning welts, and his sight was gone for at least an hour and a half, even if he was an elf.

Ana, by this time, had made her escape from the arrogant man, and she looked over her shoulder for just an instant to stick her tongue out at him... And in the instant she'd looked away, she made a head-on collision with the woman that had been watching. The woman would only feel the force of a dragonfly bumping into her, but for Ana, it was a violent crash. She let out a squeal of pain as she hit the young woman's knee and fell to the ground, her tiny frame becoming hidden in the longish grass.

She'd curled in a natural pixie reaction to injury, her wings limp against the ground behind her as she just remained completely still. Not wanting attention from the young woman with an empty green pouch, Ana just did her best to remain quiet and hidden, vulnerable. She was incredibly dizzy, so she just hugged her knees and tucked her forehead against them, doing her best to stave off the blackout she was sure was coming.

Umbra looked at the man, and down where the pixie had fell. She reached down and grabbed the pixie gently bringing her up the pixie sat in the palm of her hand. Her hand gained a red aura as she cast Dark Regeneration. "You have spunk tiny one. I am surprised that one so small can do so much damage." she said looking at the man. She debated weather the man should also be healed. She had once read that pixies only use their powders when someone truely makes them angry. 'I'll heal him when I think he learned his lesson.' she thought. She turned back to the frightened pixie in her hand, "You need not be afraid. I am not your enemy. she said to the small figure.

Rubbing her eyes slightly as the dizziness faded with the cast spell, Ana looked up at the woman, those almond shaped eyes of blue wide as she looked her over. Her eyes narrowed warily and she pulled herself to stand on the woman's palm, dusting herself off.

"Why does it suprise you? Pixies have to look after themselves somehow - spunk is a good way to keep big people away."

She glanced back towards the blinded man, grinning wickedly and letting out a slight cackle.

"Don't worry about him, he deserved it!"

She shook a fist at him from her spot in the woman's palm, even though he wouldn't be able to see it... The gesture made her gain a bit more closure on her encounter with him. Upon turning back to the young woman in whose palm she was standing, she offered her hand to shake, still grinning widely, the expression seeming to brighten those already-luminescent features she had.

"I'm Ana."

Umbra gave a slight laugh as the pixie shook her fist at the man. "I appologise I did not mean it in a rude way. I just mean that it is not often that I see this happening" she replied taking the pixies hand gently and shaking it. "I am Umbra. And it is a pleasure Ana." she said acknologing the pixie by her name. She wondered if she should have given him a dose of dark regeneration but she decided that when he actually starts to be nice she would.


(((OOC: Sorry writers block))))

((Wow, Ana, you welcome her but literally injure me? I didnt even do anything!))

Ana yawned a bit, plopping down into a seated position in Umbra's palm after releasing her hand. Her legs were crossed, and her wings opened and closed slowly, always moving, as usual. Almost seeming to be in a tired mood, she lounged in the young woman's hand, just relaxing with a lazy grin.

"Well, it's nice to meet'cha, Umbra. Thanks for healin' me'n'ev'rythin'..."

It seemed like the little pixie had a tinge of an accent, barely noticeable unless you were listening incredibly carefully. Was it Scottish? ...No, no.. Something very similar to a Scottish, though. Irish, perhaps - the way she accentuated her r's and l's, skipping over a few vowels and completely ignoring the g in any -ing ending... For example, the word "nice" sounded like "noice," and "everything" sounded much more like "ev'rythin'."

She glanced over her shoulder towards Caspian again, her grin shifting to a scowl. It was apparent that she didn't like the man at all, and clearly she wouldn't be talking to him civilly any time in the near future. She still had two pouches left, and we weren't sure of the effects of their powders, just yet... It was more than likely that they wouldn't be good, though.