Fidel D. Marx
and Pepe the Clown It was cold as all get out. The boy on his tiny raft out in the big open sea was no sailor. He however moved with the confidence with one. His body shivered and ached from the cold and wet weather. Rain slapping every exposed part of his body. That didn't hold him up though, nothing in this world could. He, in his own eyes, was a Man. And Men don't back-down, even if their body wanted to. That was something this young boy had that many didn't get for many years. As unless he died he would not stop going forward. To find a way to get enough power to defeat his Father. Nothing more. Nothing less. Why? Well, he didn't like how strong his Father was in comparison to himself. And he didn't want to grow stronger under him, as then that Man would know about his secret moves and stuff. That was the young boy's thought process on it. "LORD!" He yelped as he saw a massive Sea King emerge from the waters around fifty meters away from him. Any closer and it would've capsized his vessel. It was intimidating but that wasn't what was on the mind of Fidel D. Marx. What he saw was something that could last him for a year. Food wise. Yes, he didn't get afraid he saw this as a opportunity to mark off gathering food for a while. All he had to do was kill it and tie it to his raft. Let the cold waters keep the thing fresh. He'd quickly move around to find his rope and makeshift spear. He would get it ready once he got in range to throw it. Once he got it ready he would set it in his lap and grab his paddles. |