A/N: And we are back with another chapter of my new TABS! This chapter will be in Third Person, which most of the story will be told in, and this is not really a very exciting chapter as some would hope, but you will get to know more about Allard here with a little, tiny twist and hint in the story at the end. I will therefore officially announce this as a filler chapter, a pretty important one for later. Enjoy!

Chapter 1:
The Little Things

He covered his face as he trudged through the blizzard.

Six human years had passed by, rendering Allard Goldbeak eighteen penguin years in age. Now, the ratio was reversed; two human years to one penguin year.

Allard was a rather small penguin, about one and a half feet tall. He carried with him his mother's jade green eyes and his father's gentle voice. On his forehead lay a feathery fringe that tilted towards his left. He liked it that way; just like how his father did. Around his right shoulder was a worn-out old brown slingbag, which he had traded for some fish at a village he visited just recently. He also wore his dad's hunting knife with pride, a third feather, his father's feather, now tied onto it.

He travelled the vast wasteland, moving from village to village, meeting new penguins of various species. He learned how to survive the harsh environment from learning the ways the penguins in the different villages, and by the age of fourteen, he was a survivalist, taking care of himself like he had done it before then.

He had met Emperor Penguins, Adele Penguins, Rockhopper Penguins, Macaroni Penguins, Humboldt Penguins and even some of his own kind; Classified Penguins. Some of the settlements he found were quite inland than his original village, which was near the coastline. He never wanted to return to his original village. He was afraid it would just bring back bad memories.

He never stayed in one village for more than a week, moving to either find another one or to one he's been to before. He made a living doing jobs at the villages, helping out in their daily lives, trading for tools he could use to survive the cruel wasteland as well as fish to eat.

He helped the inhabitants get fish, build more homes, watch over the town from predators, stuff like that. They all appreciate his help, and he enjoyed helping out. For his help, he got food, shelter and supplies before he headed out to move again.

Despite all this, he always managed to find his way back to those very caves his parents passed on in. He never failed to visit them, and he never failed to tell them his adventures as they lay in their graves. He made it a point to visit them on his birthday and on their death anniversaries. It was his favourite three days each year.

"If you could see me now, I know you would be proud dad," he said to himself as he trudged through the thick snow. He was heading back to the caves to visit his parents' burials. It was their sixth death anniversary and he had so much to tell them about his progress.

Though the blizzard made vision minimal, he could make out the silhouette of The City of Penguins in the distance; the place he was born and raised at. He was lucky the caves were well away from it. He couldn't bear visiting it again after so long.

Upon arrival at the cave his mom died in, he staggered down to an area of the cave floor that had a neatly stacked pile of small rocks. He gave the rock pile a small wave and smiled. "Hey mom," he greeted.

A few hours passed, talking about the penguins he met and the villages his been to and how he's doing. For those few hours, it felt like a normal, everyday conversation with your parents. For those few hours, he felt at peace, like they never left him six years ago.

A grumble escaped Allard's belly, signalling the time for dinner. "Oh, I guess I have to go for a while and get something to eat. I'll be back in a few, ok mom?" he asked rhetorically. He stood up from the rock he sat on and headed out the cave. "And while I'm at it, I think I can keep some fish in here," he said to himself, gesturing to his new penguin-sized slingbag.

Climbing out the cave, he belly-slid over to the coastline, took off his slingbag and hunting knife and hid them in some nearby rocks. He covered them with some snow to camouflage them and jumped into the freezing waters to catch some fish.

"Ok, I guess about ten fish should be more than enough," he thought as he grabbed his tenth fish. He held half in his beak and the rest with his left flipper. From the corner of his eye, he spotted some figures a few hundred feet from him, but not just any figures.

Two leopard seals, one purple one and one blue one. From their look, they were both in their teens. He always couldn't forget the story his dad told him about his grandfather's adventures, especially the one about how he fought off a whole family of leopard seals using only his flippers and a whole lot of snow.

"I don't want to mess with them right now," he thought as he made his way out of the water. When he resurfaced, he swam quickly to shore and dumped the fish onto the icy floor. He caught a much-needed breath of air and shook of the remaining water droplets on his feathers. Then he picked up the fish, packed them into his slingbag and headed back for the cave.

More hours passed as he continued his story-telling to his dead mother, munching on one or two fishes that he caught. He didn't have much left to share, so when he was done, he thought it was best to catch some sleep, so that tomorrow he could wake up early to tell his dad about his adventures since last year.

"Good night mom," he said, his eyelids getting heavier as he drifted to sleep. Then, a misty figure manifested itself beside him. The sight was as mystical and magical as it could get. When it was done, the figure that appeared was a female penguin with jade green eyes. If Allard was awake, he'll know who it was instantly.

Annabella Goldbeak; Allard's mom.

She looked at him with a big smile on her face. Giving him a rather ghostly goodnight kiss, she said, "Goodnight my dear Allard. You're journey on this Earth will soon begin, so I wish you best of luck." With that, she dissipated back into thin air, but Allard was still fast asleep, a smile now engulfing his peaceful face.

A/N: So, how was it? Like the last paragraph? It's the little hint for later, as well as the little hint of what he saw in the waters. The next paragraph is not the ever famous penguins (yet), nor is it Allard's. It is another, first person, chapter on another person that will be the one to bring everything together. R&R!