OOC: I'm going to include some landmarks that aren't there (Otter's Fort, an RP board that Fishy was created on), I figure this will be my re-intro. I'm coming up with some backstory. Also, I'm thinking of helping to revive Assassin's Creed, if so, I will assume that's in Aral's younger days.
The aging otter swam slowly down the River Moss, it had been many a season since he had been in this river. I grew up here, I lived here, am I to die here? He shook his gray streaked head and stopped swimming, floating slowly down river. Thinking about the events that had taken place in his life, of the beasts who had lived and died alongside him. Stealth, Linx, Archon, Mokwa, Terg, even his own brother, Sharkrudder, so many had died in such a short time. The peppered otter swore to himself, and all for that foolish escapade in the Northlands. His thoughts faded off into a conflicted silence.
Sometime later that day, he finally reached the end of the River Moss, his destination, his old home. Otter's Fort, abandoned, falling into ruin, he flipped around and headed out of the water, stumbling as he hit dry ground. Attached to his waist was a simple dagger, his only weapon at the moment, he had lost everything but this dagger, and a stepped sword, which was left with the otter clan he was staying with at the moment. Both of those weapons meant the world to him. They were all that was left of his past life, those two weapons which were made by his long time companion, Linx. The otter, who's name was Fishrudder walked into his old post at Otter's Fort and slowly meandered he was nearer to the keep. The ex-military juggarnaut was gone, lost to the streams of time.
Fishrudder, Ex-Captain of the Guard of Otter's Fort picked up the beaten wooden sword and slowly started working through forms. The ash sword felt comfortable in his paw as he parried and counterattacked, slowly picking up steam… OOC: Apparently the post didn't make complete sense, this is going on in the present, in the old training grounds of the fort