Coconut Grove a bitter payment for many bloody deeds

When blinding sands gave way to lush tropics, the Harbinger thought himself to be in the wrong region of the earth. The glittering sea green of his gaze searched the coconut trees with a hint of amusement that curled his dark lip in a sardonic smirk. Two small birds had clutched themselves to the sides of the fruit and were feverishly pecking against the tough outer shell. Their twittering did not to unnoticed, and though the Nord did not know why they fought so vigorously to break open the fruit, he was still intrigued by their perseverance.
 
Breathing a sigh, the warrior turned his attention from them and cast a watchful eye on the rolling sea. It had been some time since he had tested his fishing skills, but the ache in his gut was a reminder that he needed to feed. The Nord lumbered toward the waves and tested the chill of the water with his dusty limbs. The scars that littered his legs were relieved at the touch of the chilling splash. Kodlak’s skin rose in a series of bumps, but he pressed further until he stood to his shoulders in the swell.
 
Peering into the murky depths, the Nord drew his tongue across the hairs of his muzzle and waited – ears rigid – for a sign of a passerby, or the chance at a lucky catch.