There are memories, phantom pains of father's creations strapped to the back. Nightmares that start with the sureness of straps settled around their joints and iron clasps that strained his neck. Madosa remembers the thrill of flying, at least for a little while. In their dreams they can hear their father's delighted laughter as they plummet, over their own screams because they were burning - father why does it hurt so much ?. Hungry water's reached to catch him- welcome him. But the salt water did nothing to soothe the stings that scorched down their back. Leather harness turning into a net to drag them deeper, into the bottomless depths of the ocean.

A dream of flying, falling, drowning. they were nothing but dreams, reality wasn't such a gift as the dreams. All Madosa can remember is the call of the ocean, the sudden need to dive in, deeper and deeper still. They are unsure of the memories of walking on land - when all they remember- truly is the feel of swimming under water. Sirens who would hum lullabies and sulkies who would teach them how to use their claws. Playing at the bottom of the sea, kicking up dirt and hunting turtles.

They know they were made for land, but the water was were they lived- it was all they known. As much as he longed for land he dreaded the sky with open fear. Did not want to lurk where his nightmare's could become reality. They told no one of their dreams, no one that would listen. Drifting in the sea like a log between blinks of sleep. Madosa has only known the ocean, but in dreams distant vacant ones- they dream of walking too.

So they try it.

Near their current lagoon, the Jaguar lurks within the depths of the sea, itching closer and closer towards the sandy lands of the island. Unknown to it's inhabitants. They are slow to make their way up, wading in the water for a time before- leaving it's depths entirely to walk on land. It's instinctual- easy. The stranger marvels on the dry sand that clings to their paws now, claws sinking into sand. It's a marvel- to walk - to breathe air. It's so different- so new. They turn wide eyed stares into the island, not once looking back at the water- or up at the sky.

Madosa knows no land as well as they do the sea, even dreams fall flat to the experiencing of the water. How in night the lagoons come to life with vibrant luminescence. Sand clumps between wet fur and itches at the skin, a pleasant experience in water ( memories of throwing grit at whale sharks and swimming away merrily ) are harsher on land, on open ground something jolly turned unpleasant. It is a reminder, if nothing else, that nothing will ever hold to the delight of the water.

They can feel it's calling back, like a siren's hum between the wash of water on land, but the shifting night catches their attention. Wings clash with the violet of the sky and clouds wink out under the stranger's approach. It is a stranger, by the wavering beacon of white and red that seem to glow around his face. Hairline fractures and an eruption of red along black- black skies and blacker depths of the sea.

Golden eyes drift closer towards the beacon of black, edging under the dragon's shadow without wavering. "My name is Madosa Toni, I seek no aid but the knowledge of this place." They should be afraid, fear the dark that blotches out the sky- but Madosa - or Toni as is their first name to go by, they never feared the depths of the ocean. They are bold out of their home, but cautious. If this stranger- this place seem as hostile as the sea folk dread, then they will return to the water.

One way or another, Toni will always return to the water.

Mads has heard of pirates, seen ships that cut through the surface of waters and feed the sharks with their own crew. THey have not lived long enough to know the basis of these practices, had the ability to judge them for their own morality in pushing crewmates into sea. THey only know, with distant understanding, that some- most prefer to live atop the waters, and follow the rivers to a destination they will never know.

It is an odd thing, land bound pirates.

The jaguar takes the information in like a sponge, the curl of a tail along sandy paws, flicked to and fro to dispel some of it clinging to their form. "Pirates usually live on the sea, not on land" THey find themselves voicing, tilting their head curiously. GOldenLuxury is an odd name. It does not sound similar to them, A pirate king is to inspire fear of some kind with a name like GoldenLuxury, it makes the typhoon seem... well luxurious.

"I... find myself curious about these lands. Can i Meet them, you're crew?"