Extending his wing to stare out over the large ocean, upon which had resided his home, Larry reflected on the toll his choices had paid, on those he’d considered his kin for so long. For centuries these people like him had lived a blissful if futile life under the fixed shelter of what was once the Most Prominent Mountain Peak in all of the region.

Now they were all homeless, with whatever euphoria they had felt recently, after hearing of the death of “He who tormented them” well and truly vanquished, for now they were all evacuee’s, barely able to escape before the ocean reclaimed all but the most outer regions of what had been the most prestigious city in all of the confederacy.

It wasn’t yet Spring time but already the “Great Melt” had extended to reclaim nearly a fifth of the once vast and extensive Southern Continent. Reflecting on this fact Larry vowed that so long as he the last of the " True-Blood Penguins" had blood in his veins, those responsible would be held accountable for their ill actions.