It's midnight. The village is silent. A howling wind from a small hole in the cave roof shrieks at the hollowness of the once-bustling town. There's a loud splashing, and the outline of an all-too familiar Scorchio emerges, dripping wet, from the pond. He gasps for air, then stands up. Poskrat could tell the Kougra had been here. Even the water couldn't wash away the scent of his blood. Yes... that dimwitted child was here, all right! Poskrat followed the scent through the town, stopping in front of a statue of some Jetsam. Say...that crystal it was made of sure looked valuble... With a powerful slash, he cleaved a chunk right off of the dorsal fin. The Scorchio chuckled dryly, pocketing the shimmering mineral. Now, back to business... The trail ended in some green little hovel. Silently, Poskrat stepped inside. The fire had long died down to a pale glow of fading embers. Though he could barely see, due to water stinging his eyes, and the pure darkness of the Caves at night, Poskrat could make out the form of a young pet sleeping near the fire. "Heh... thought you was smart now, didn't ye? Yeh couldn't ascape ole Poskrat, now could ye?" He muttered mockingly. It took only the work of a moment to bring his claws down in a fatal slash, killing the poor child in one foul blow.