Nintendo = Not mine.

A dejected Toad watches helplessly from the cover of foliage as his Princess surrenders herself to the Darklandian squad. He casts the brave woman and the captured Toad one last glance as they are marched away, before he recedes further into the bush. There was nothing more he could do. He had been given an important task: protect the Mushroom Kingdom's ruler.

And he had failed.

"It's not your fault."

The Toad jumps, having forgotten that he was not alone. He shakes his orange spotted head and turns to the apparent mind reader, features expressing guilt.

"Yes it is. If I had not told her about what was happening—"

"And what?" The 'mind reader', a green spotted Toad, interrupts. "Let that guy be killed?"

"No! I just—"

"We would have done the same thing in your place." Yet another Toad, though with yellow spots, cuts in. "You can't beat yourself up over this."

The orange Toad sighs and tilts his head in defeat. His friends were right, he knew that, but he still couldn't help but wonder if there was something else he could have done. After his silent 'conversation' with the imprisoned Toad, the orange Toad had turned to his group and informed them of what was occurring but a few yards from their hiding place. His green and yellow companions wanted to help just as much as he did, but even they were stumped for a solution. The three of them, four if the prisoner was in any shape to fight, would not be enough to overcome this large of a group. Technically, there was one other in their party, but the three Toads were not about to risk the safety of said individual. Who is or, should I say, was this person?

The very Princess being escorted to the tyrant behind this brutal attack, if it wasn't obvious enough.

Though the Toad triad had no ideas on how to intervene, the Princess, on the other hand, quickly came to her own conclusion. It was simple: she would surrender.

This suggestion was…not well met.

Her option sparked quite the argument, which escalated fairly quickly. In fact, if the Koopatrol had not been putting on his overdone performance, the group's bickering may have actually been heard. In the end, the Princess used her strong points to silence the stubborn Toads.

"I'm not about to sit here and watch this disgusting execution when there is something I can do to stop it!" She had said. "Besides, even if I decided to stay put, there's still a chance I'll be found anyway. As close as this squad is, we can almost guarantee it."

The Toads couldn't conjure reasonable counters to her words. She was right. After all, what kind of ruler would she be if she just hid and watched the downfall of her people? Though being in the Koopa King's clutches was…unpleasant, for lack of a better word, at least she would be safe. More importantly, she could try and intervene with the tyrant's treatment of the Mushroom Kingdom's citizens.

But for how long?

Now that the Kingdom was without its heroes, Peach may be looking at an indefinite stay in Bowser's castle. With the Mario Brothers imprisoned, who was going to rescue the Princess this time? This very question was asked by the Toads, whose hopes were slim to none at the defeat of the seemingly invincible protectors. Her response, shooting for optimism but laced with doubt, is a plan. A plan that sounds incredibly simple, one that even a child could grasp. Bringing it to fruition, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. The Princess's plot? Get to the docks (as suggested by the captured Toad), grab a boat, and go look for another hero.

Brilliant. Achievable. Not a flaw to be found.

Sarcasm aside, who were the Toads to criticize? At least this "plan" got them off their asses and on the road to getting something accomplished. It beat sitting in a prickly bush waiting to be found and then locked away in a cell.

When the details were cleared and all protests were (unhappily) silenced, the Princess carefully crawled from the protection of the foliage and slipped quietly into the shadows of a nearby building. She did not yet want to draw attention to herself, fearing that if the squad were to see her emerge from her true hiding place, they may be tempted to search it and discover the loyal Toads. It was probably unlikely that such a thing would happen, seeing as the Princess was the prize, but she was not about to take that risk. The Toad's mission was hopeless enough as it is, no need to ruin it before their journey can even begin.

As Princess Peach calls out to the squad leader, the orange Toad finds himself plagued with conflicted emotions. Pride for his Princess's bravery, relief for the spared Toad, and frustration, because if he had been able to do something, Peach wouldn't have had to.

"Hey…"

The orange Toad looks up, seeing his friend's green spotted head revolve between him and an opening in the bush.

"Did you hear me? You kinda spaced out there."

The orange Toad shakes his head, clearing himself of his daze. "Sorry, I didn't." He mumbles.

"He said the squad is gone." The yellow Toad jumps in. "We need to leave now before anyone else shows up."

The orange Toad takes a deep breath and rises to his full height, exchanging a determined, yet weary look with his friends.

"Alright, I'm ready."

"Good." The green Toad allows himself a small smile. "Let's get this impossible mission underway."

Five days later…

A large wave crashes on the white sands of a seemingly empty beach, bringing with it meager deposits of seaweed and shells varying in color and shape. Smaller, lighter waves lap at island's perimeter, creating a soothing rhythm only occasionally broken by the rumble of a massive wave colliding with land. A gentle breeze rustles the foliage bordering the peaceful beach, adding yet another note to this island's relaxing symphony.

"Ahh…"

A sigh of content, emanating from the only resident on this part of the island. It is a Yoshi, comfortably reclined in a fold out lounging chair facing the pristine waters of the colossal ocean encompassing his island home. One hand delicately cups a glass filled to the brim with a brightly colored exotic drink, complete with decorative umbrella. The other hand finds home behind the Yoshi's head, acting as support, only abandoning this duty to occasionally adjust a dark pair of protective sunglasses.

The native expertly sips from the straw of the beverage without so much as tilt of the head. Another content sigh is clearly heard, having no competition other than a light wind and the gentle lapping of waves.

"This…" The Yoshi breathes, talking to no one in particular. "There's just no beating it."

Whether the fruit eater was referring to the view or his tasty beverage, it is unclear. His relaxed demeanor, however, is quite obvious. Soon after his declaration, a flock of seagulls fly overhead, their cries completing the soundtrack of the island. The Yoshi groans and lazily swats in the direction of the talkative birds.

"Ugh, go away!" He whines, staring at the airborne creatures drifting apathetically wherever the breeze commanded.

The native Yoshi was actually fond of birds, if one could believe it after witnessing this display, but that favor was rarely directed toward the beach dwelling avains. For some reason, the mere sight of a gull would put a damper on his mood. Why? Not even he knew.

An island sure is the perfect place to live if you can't stand seagulls.

The Yoshi vocalizes his displeasure, grumbling something about how the gulls weren't supposed to fly around this side of the island, before closing his eyes and focusing on the sounds of the ocean, attempting to tune out the flying ailments. In doing so, the islander has unknowingly put himself in a great deal of danger. For at that moment, an unfriendly face peers ominously from the shadows of a large bush mere yards behind the oblivious native.

The stranger bears a white, emotionless mask streaked with red tribal markings. A red robe covers his body, though from the waist down a grass skirt sways with even the tiniest movement. He raises a spear clutched tightly in both hands, examining the tip, making sure it is as sharp and deadly as on the day of its creation. The unnerving creature looks over his shoulder at a group, whose appearance is eerily similar to his own, signaling that it was time to make their move.

They had a job to do.

Earlier that day…

A stiffly composed Koopatrol makes his way through a dim, cavernous tunnel, weaving around the occasional stalagmite in a well-practiced manner. It's as if he's walked this path his entire life, when in reality it has only been a few days. Coordination and grace were one of the many qualities this high ranking soldier proudly boasted to his subordinates, whether they wanted to hear his pride filled rambling or not. The Koopa Troopa trailing the arrogant superior, unfortunately, did not seem to share these prized traits. He frequently fumbles and narrowly avoids tripping over the smaller stalagmites as he struggles to keep up with the pace of the quick moving Koopatrol. In all fairness, the Koopa's apparent clumsiness was not entirely his fault. The soldier had time and again complained that the regulation sunglasses his kind were required to wear were not appropriate for poorly lit areas as, obviously, it hindered their vision even more. Sadly, yet not that all surprising, his grievances were ignored.

After all, looking cool was more important than practicality.

The Koopatrol sighs as his underling trips on the uneven cavern floor, deciding to slow down so that the 'less gifted' individual may keep up. He waits, watching as the Koopa frantically scoops up the important documents that had scattered during his fall. Crumpled papers in hand, the frazzled soldier swiftly stands before rushing so that he is but a few feet behind his commander. The cavalier superior turns and continues through the winding tunnel, not bothering to look back at the frustrated Koopa as he breaks the silence with a question.

"Status update. How is the progress for island recruitment?" His voice more commanding than inquisitive.

The Koopa jumps slightly, startled by how loud the Koopatrol's voice sounded in the enclosed space. He hastily sifts through the papers, searching for the document with the right information. When the Koopa finds it, he can't help but curse silently at the small print. Normally this wouldn't be that bothersome, but combining the annoyances of a dim room and even darker sunglasses made for less than ideal reading conditions. Hoping his leader wouldn't take notice, the nervous soldier tilts up his shades and squints at the writing, clearing his throat before speaking.

"We're ahead of schedule." He eventually replies, relieved when his voice doesn't waver. "All the native tribes have joined King Bowser's army."

The slightest smile graces the arrogant leader's features. This was excellent news indeed. His expression returns to a neutral state when a new thought crosses his mind. There had been a strong resistance from one tribe in particular, so it seemed odd that they would have such a drastic change of heart. The Koopatrol decides to speak again, if only to clarify his subordinate's original statement.

"All of the tribes? Even the Ravens?"

The Koopa checks the document again, looking for anything involving the Ravens. He frowns at the misleading wording, silently criticizing whoever drafted the recording.

"Excuse the error sir, it seems the record was referring to the 'hostile' native tribes." He begins, hoping his superior would understand the mishap was not of his own doing. "The Ravens are still listed as a resistance. I'm afraid we can't pin them down."

A grunt echoes through the tunnel. The Koopatrol was right to have sought clarity. The prospect of the Ravens willingly joining forces was too good to be true.

"Hmm…King Bowser will not be pleased." He mutters to himself. "No matter, we just rounded up all of the Yoshi Villagers. He should be satisfied with that bit of news for now."

The Koopa is unable to stop a soft hiss at this statement. There was yet another unpleasant correction he needed to make.

"Erm…Actually sir," The soldier gulps. "we don't have all of the Yoshi Villagers."

The cool, collective composure of the Koopatrol is immediately broken.

"WHAT?!" He bellows, furious voice painfully loud as he turns on his subordinate.

The nerve shot Koopa flinches at his superior's violent reaction. He was expecting a negative response, but nothing like this.

"I-I checked their population records and d-did a head count." He stutters, gesturing to one of the papers clutched in his hand. "We're missing one of the villagers."

"We swept that entire area! Twice!" The Koopatrol hisses with rage. "How is it possible that one of them got away?!"

The quivering soldier takes a calming breath, redirecting his gaze to the remaining documents. After a quick search, he retrieves a map of the island and studies it carefully. When the subordinate feels confident enough to voice his theory, he looks back to his commander and points to the map as he speaks.

"Perhaps our missing native was never there in the first place." The Koopa begins, gesturing to the Yoshi Village's location. "None of our captives have mentioned this individual, though whether that's out of protection or lack of caring is anyone's guess."

The fuming leader suddenly closes the gap between the two, cutting off further words with his uncomfortably close proximity. His subordinate takes a step back, startled by the Koopatrol's aggression.

"I don't care about this guy's popularity," He barks. "I want to know his current location!"

"I can't say for sure, but if he or she hasn't been spotted yet, then we may try searching the previously unmarked side of the island." The Koopa holds up the map like a shield, shakily pointing to the area in question. "Shall I send a request for a recovery squad, sir?"

The commander turns abruptly on his heel, throwing up his arms in exasperation.

"And risk Bowser finding out about our screw up? Besides, most of that part of the island has yet to be explored." He allows his arms to drop to his sides, shoulders drooping. "It would take our men forever to find anyone in that mess."

The Koopatrol brings a hand to his chin, contemplating his remaining options. After a few moments he grins, having formulated a solution, and casts a look over his shoulder.

"You know, this is the perfect opportunity to test our new recruits. I want you to rally a group of Spear Guys and-"

"Wait," The Koopa interrupts rather boldly. "You want me to send Spear Guys?"

"Of course." His superior confirms, oddly unbothered by the cut off. "The Spear Guys are native to this island and, thus, more familiar with these dense jungles. They will have much better luck finding this missing Yoshi than us."

"No, I get that I just…" The soldier trails off, head shaking. "Do you really think we can trust them to catch this guy?"

"Who said anything about capturing?" A cruel sneer twists the Koopatrol's features. "Bowser has plenty of those fruit-eating lizards for his experiments."

He continues down the dreary cavern, not bothering to check if the Koopa was following.

"I'm sure he won't care If one of them…'doesn't make it' to the first trials."

The Spear Guy scout slowly emerges from his hiding place in the thick vegetation, being careful as to not create too much noise with the rustling of leaves. Fortunately for him, the steady breeze disturbing the surrounding foliage would conceal any mistakes, making his caution almost unnecessary. That, and the fact the Yoshi native was so zoned out he probably wouldn't notice anyway.

The remaining Spear Guys file out at their leader's signal, each moving just as fluidly as the first. Once the entire group has exited the Jungle's fringe, they arrange themselves in a tight formation behind their leader, awaiting further direction.

Yet again, unnecessary behavior.

The large group had only been assembled so that more ground could be covered to find the missing Yoshi. No one, not the Spear Guys, not the even Koopatrol that ordered this search, believed this many troops would be needed to take the native down. It was only a Yoshi, a race that firmly believed in upholding peace. If an entire village was rounded up so easily, dealing with one should be no problem.

The Spear Guy leader takes several light steps toward his target, readying his spear as he ponders where to strike his victim. From the side? It would be easier to see his target, but then he runs the risk of being spotted. There were many other options to consider, but in the end the native decides to simply throw his weapon through the back of the victim's chair. The material seemed flimsy enough to cooperate, so there wasn't any concern that the point wouldn't be able to puncture the cheap mesh. And at this close range?

There was no missing.

Light glints off the spear's tip as it is drawn back in preparation to be thrown. The Spear Guy quickly calculates the best angle before launching his weapon as hard as he can, watching as it arcs toward the oblivious Yoshi. A gust of wind slightly alters the projectile's course, causing it to miss dead center of the chair's back and instead pierce it slightly off to the left. The mask wearing native is about to groan his displeasure, believing to have done the impossible and missed, when he hears a startled cry emanate from the target. He watches as the Yoshi drops a tropical beverage to the sand as his arm begins to twitch wildly. The limb suddenly goes still and hangs limply over the chair's armrest. The victim slumps to the side, motionless.

It wasn't perfect, but the spear hit its goal.

A sinister grin is well hidden behind the hostile's emotionless mask. He turns to his followers and motions for them to stay put as he goes to approach the deceased. It seems without a shadow of a doubt they had succeeded, but the Spear Guy leader needed to be sure. Before his group departed, it would be wise to check the Yoshi's vitals.

Arrogantly strolling to the left side of the victim, he unceremoniously takes the lifeless limb in hand, tilting the wrist towards him. The Spear Guys only just places his hand to check for a pulse when the appendage violently twists from his grip. Completely caught off guard, the native is unable to react when the hand of the "deceased" finds itself clutched tightly around the Spear Guy's neck. The cries of shock from the tribe members drown out his own as he looks up at the surprise assailant.

Had the leader bothered to even glance at the Yoshi, he would have noticed that the spear had in fact not impaled the target's torso. The slight course correction of the weapon missed the fruit-eater's vitals completely, instead, piercing just under the native's raised arm. The Yoshi did not go unscathed, however, as the spear's edge managed to graze his side, the trickle of blood a stark contrast to the native's green skin. The wound is notable, but not at all life threatening.

"Did you seriously just fall for that?" The Yoshi chides, raising an eyebrow (or the closest thing to such a display, seeing as his kind do not really have eyebrows.) as he removes his sunglasses with his free hand.

The Spear Guy meets the brilliant blue eyes of the Yoshi, thankful that his mask shielded his undoubtedly dumbfounded expression from view. He couldn't believe what he just witnessed. His target had swiftly reacted in such an unexpected way. Anyone else, Yoshi or otherwise, would have at the very least been startled by an attempt at their life. This guy not only kept his cool, but faked his death so his foes would let down their guard.

Who the hell was this Yoshi?

"Huh, you seem surprised." The Yoshi tilts his head as he points out the obvious. "You and your friends must not have crossed paths with me before. Weird, I didn't think there were any Spear Guys on this side of the Island that haven't at least heard of The Great-"

He trails off, shaking his head.

"Wow, don't I sound like I'm full of myself? Anywho, what were we talking about?"

The Spear Guy looks to his comrades, who are busy exchanging confused glances, before making a subtle gesture, signaling a retaliation. It doesn't go unnoticed, however, as the odd Yoshi narrows his eyes at the leader's actions.

"Oh, I see. No more talking. Fine with me."

The fruit-eater smoothly rises from his chair, still keeping the Spear Guy firmly in his grip. The native leader gags as he is lifted from the ground, causing his followers to hesitate in their attack.

"D-don't hold back b-because of me!" He chokes, struggling to turn his head to face the wary group. "Take this guy o-out!"

"Here, I'll make this easier for them." The Yoshi rolls his eyes, pulling out the spear still embedded in his chair.

He walks a few yards off to the side and sets the Spear Guy leader down beside a coconut tree. Before the native can try and escape, the Yoshi swiftly plunges the spear through the mask wearer's robe, successfully pinning him to the tree without dealing any harm. The Yoshi native mutters a short 'stay put' before returning to his position by the chair.

"There, your boss is out of the way." He waves impatiently. "Go nuts."

The Spear Guys don't need to be told twice. The Yoshi barely finishes speaking before the natives hurl their spears near simultaneously at their target. Before the deadly weapons can connect, the fruit-eater fluidly pulls his reclining fold out chair in front of him like a shield. A few spears strike the ground around the Yoshi, but the rest impale the surprisingly sturdy lounging furniture, leaving the native unharmed. The native doesn't give the Spear Guys a moment more to react, charging at them as he turns the chair so the sharp points of the imbedded spears faced his foes. In one swift motion, he lifts the unintentionally created weapon into the air and brings it down hard on the heads of the tightly clustered natives, killing them all instantly.

And just like that, it's over.

The Spear Guys leader gapes at the victorious Yoshi, frozen with emotions that words like "shocked" don't even begin to properly describe. His men, all of them, had been killed. In one move. By one creature. A species that was universally known to be peaceful.

A label that did not apply to this opponent.

Without a word, the Yoshi turns away from the gruesome scene and trots over to his original place of lounging. The fruit-eater scoops up the fallen glass that once contained his beverage and moves to approach the pinned Spear Guy, now shaking with fear. The native leader flinches when his foe drops to a squat but an arm's length away, peering at him with a surprisingly neutral expression. His entire body tenses when the Yoshi lifts the glass to eye level, unsure what this gesture might entail.

"What is this?" The Yoshi asks, tone even.

The Spear Guy tilts his head, genuinely confused by the strange question.

"A…u-uh…healing elixir that looks suspiciously like an alcoholic beverage?" He stammers.

"Wha—?" The Yoshi snorts in amusement. "No, you're thinking of a Tasty Tonic."

He shakes the mostly empty glass, drawing attention to it yet again.

"This," The Yoshi emphasizes. "is all that's left of a delicious concoction that brought me immeasurable happiness. A drink that satisfied my thirst. A drink…that you ruined!"

The tribe leader squeaks in surprise when the fruit-eater breaks the glass against the tree he was pinned to, allowing what little liquid remained to dribble onto his mask.

'This guy's a freaking lunatic!' the native mentally cries as he blubbers nonsensically for forgiveness.

"It was an accident! I-I'm sorry! I d-didn't mean for you to spill your drink! I was just trying-"

"To kill me?" The Yoshi deadpans.

"What? N-no!" The Spear Guy leader lies desperately. "Why would I—"

"Oh calm down." The fruit-eater interrupts yet again. "You're not the first Grass Skirt that tried to do me in."

The Spear Guy blinks, befuddled by the startling news and the odd nickname assigned to his people. Seriously, who was this guy?

"You are, however, the first that was stupid enough to attack me in my territory." The native continues, tone growing dark. "Most know better than to violate the terms of the Island's treaty. We, the Yoshi tribes, stay on the beach and the jungle's fringe, you, Spear Guys and whatever else, stay in the jungle and/or volcano. Simple stuff. Even kids know it!"

The native leader was well aware of the treaty, and had no need to hear the Yoshi's over simplified explanation of its details. Still, he could not help but gulp as the fruit-eater continued, having an idea where this lecture was headed.

"If one is to trespass on another's land, the truce is rendered temporarily null, and the offender becomes free game." The Yoshi picks up a shard from the shattered glass and brings it to the throat of the pinned native. "The offended, can deal out whatever punishment they deem appropriate."

As predicted, the Spear Guy leader finds him thrown into hysteria. It finally made sense why the other Spear Guy tribes refused this mission. He had thought they were cowards, or that they didn't want to risk screwing up and angering King Bowser. No, they just knew better than to mess with the one crazy, violence prone Yoshi on this Island.

Those assholes didn't even warn him.

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" The native leader cries, struggling to get free. "You were supposed to be an easy kill! I never would have agreed to this if I had known that—"

"Wait, what do you mean agreed? Someone put you up to this?"

"I knew I should have never joined them!" The Spear Guy continues, ignoring the question. "Things were just fine until they showed up!"

"When who showed—Will you just calm down and tell me what the hell is going on?!"

Again the fruit-eater is ignored, his words falling on deaf ears. When the Yoshi moves to restrain the distraught native, he only thrashes more wildly, causing the glass shard to accidentally cut across his mask and leave a shallow scratch. The Yoshi groans, fearing that he may have to resort to the cliché of delivering a composing slap, when a cacophony of voices captures his attention.

"LAND HO!"

"Yes. We see the land."

"LAND HO!"

"Uh-huh, that it is. Hasn't changed since you last mentioned it.

"LAND HO!"

"For the love of all the stars in Star Haven! We get it! We've seen the Island since it appeared on the damn horizon! STOP POINTING IT OUT!"

The native Yoshi whips around, scanning the sea for the unexpected arrivals. He spots a shabby boat slowly approaching, no more than a couple of minutes from reaching the island's shore. The fruit-eater can't help but gawk at the sight; it had been quite some time since this part of the island received visitors. His shock at the foreigners provides the perfect distraction for the Spear Guy leader, whom pulls free of the spear at the cost of a tear in his robes. The Yoshi turns at the sound of ripping fabric, but failing reflexes prevent him from grabbing hold of his escaping prisoner.

"Damn it!" The fruit-eater swears in frustration, watching his only lead escape into the thick foliage of the nearby jungle. He could try to pursue, but for all he knew there could be something else lurking beyond the dense vegetation, waiting to strike. Until the Yoshi was properly prepared, he wasn't about to leave the beach.

Besides, he had company.

'Wait. Company…' The native turns to the grisly remains of the Spear Guy tribe. 'Oh shit.'

Seemingly forgetting the seriousness of what had transpired, the Yoshi clumsily runs over to the unpleasant sight and begins rapidly throwing sand over the bodies. This act was not in respect for the departed, but a desperate attempt to hide the gruesome scene from his quickly approaching guests. As stated, tourists did not journey to this side of the island very often. The last thing the fruit-eater wanted was to scare away potential customers with a pile of dead natives.

Such an inconvenience. Why couldn't his foes have made an attempt on his life at a later time?

The Yoshi awkwardly stands back and circles the shallow grave, making sure none of the corpses were visible. It was a poor job to say the least, parts of the chair remained exposed along with most of the spears, though the embedded victims were more or less covered. What could he say? He didn't have enough time for a proper burial.

Not a moment later, the scraping of wood against sand alerts the Yoshi that the visitors had finally reached the shore. He turns in their direction and takes a calming breath, praying that his guests would not ask about the sandcastle-esque abomination disrupting the beach's otherwise pristine condition. The native strolls confidently to their position, fishing a crumpled paper from the lining of his blue saddle.

'I hope the revised version will make a better impression.' He muses, studying the writing on the parchment.

The Yoshi opens his mouth to speak, when he realizes the tourists, whom were thoroughly absorbed in their own conversation, had not yet noticed his presence. He goes to clear his throat to gain their attention, but stops, curiosity getting the best of him.

"I never want to set foot on that boat ever again." A Toad with a green spotted cap groans, plopping down onto the sand.

Another Toad, cap spotted with yellow, kisses the beach in an exaggerated fashion. He gags, having accidently gotten sand in his mouth, before collapsing on his back.

"I'm right there with yah." The yellow Toad agrees, enthusiastically making a 'sand angel' as he speaks. "I never thought I would miss being on land this much."

The green Toad chuckles, amused by his companion's antics, before another voice redirects his attention.

"Whoa! What are you two doing?" The third and final Toad, donning a cap of orange spots, cries, jumping out of their meager ship.

"We're…sitting?" The green Toad replies, tone conveying confusion. "Well, I am anyway. He's currently making a pretty damn impressive sand angel."

The yellow Toad beams proudly at the praise, exaggerating his arm movements further to extend the wingspan of his 'angel'.

"I can see that." The orange Toad growls in irritation. "What I want to know is why you're lazing about when we have work to do?!"

The green Toad narrows his eyes, clearly not appreciating his friend's words.

"Lazy? We've done nothing but rowing for the past four hours! Not to mention the constant running, jumping, climbing, and any other hellish exertion you can think of in the days before that! I think taking a moment to relax is hardly out of the question."

"Relax?" The orange Toad parrots, flailing his arms wildly. "It's been five days. Five days! And we've hardly accomplished anything! How can we relax in a time like this?! "

"Running us ragged won't make the situation any better." The green Toad hisses, rising to meet the glare of his agitated companion. "It won't matter if we find what we're looking for if we're too weak to do anything about it!"

The yellow Toad sits up, nervously watching the escalating argument. After a few more heated exchanges, he tries to interfere.

"Um, guys? I don't think—"

"Are you questioning my strategy?" The orange Toad continues, ignoring the yellow Toad's futile attempt to interrupt.

"Yes, I am." The green Toad eagerly shoots back. "I don't ever recall electing you leader, so I don't see any reason for your word to be law."

A short moment later, the verbal jabs turn physical, and the yellow Toad can only sit back in shock as his friends ruthlessly attack each other. The surprise quickly wares off, and, not one to be left out, the yellow foreigner shrugs half-heartedly before jumping into the fray.

The native tilts his head with a blink, watching as the scrap is swiftly veiled by a cloud of sand and dust. He sighs as he looks to the ground, perplexed by the behavior of his strange visitors. The Yoshi moves to break up the squabble when something strikes him across the face, sending him stumbling back where he eventually lands in an undignified heap. He shakes his head, attempting to clear himself of his daze, before noticing the offending object lying in the sand off to the side. The fruit-eater carefully scoops it up, inspecting the 'weapon' with a raised eyebrow.

'The hell?'

The projectile looked like a symbol off of a keyboard. Something like what one would see in older cartoons or comics when a character was censored or when a fight broke out. Come to think of it, when the Yoshi looked back at the quarrelling Toads, the thickness of the cloud surrounding them seemed unreal. Even more symbols, similar to the one clutched in his hand, were flying from the scuffle.

Exactly like a cartoon.

The native shakes his head again before dropping the strange object.

'Geez, I must have gotten hit harder than I thought…'

Getting to his feet, the Yoshi brushes himself off and turns back to the somewhat comical scene. He carefully avoids the 'projectiles' as he approaches the Toads, calling for them to end the ridiculous battle. When no one shows signs of hearing, the fruit-eater takes a deep breath, clearly frustrated, before yelling to gain attention.

"HEY!"

The fighting immediately stops.

The Yoshi angrily meets the eyes of every Toad, each humorously frozen in an attacking pose. When the native is sure he has their attention, his features soften before shifting into a smile. He raises the paper, which he somehow kept hold of even after being struck, to eye level and clears his throat, preparing to read its contents.

"Welcome to the beautiful and exotic Lava Lava Island!" The Yoshi chirps cheerfully, gesturing to his lifelong home. "My name is insert name here, and I will be your guide today! Turn to guests and smile."

The Yoshi offers an overly enthusiastic grin, unaware that he hadn't said his real name and that he had read his instructions aloud. Still frozen in the same positions, the Toads exchange a slight glance before looking back at the odd native.

"Here on Lava Lava Island, we offer many exciting, fun, and relaxing activities! For sight seers, I can take you on a tour via bo—" The Yoshi trails off, remembering his visitors complaining about their boat ride. He quickly skips to the next suggestion. "For adventure seekers, I can lead you through the treacherous jungle, where we will eventually stop at the edge of the ever active volcano. Here I can take your photo, for a small fee of course, so you may show your friends and family that you braved the fierce wilderness and made it to the heart of the Island!"

The Toads stare quietly, unblinking, as the Yoshi continues to ramble on about various tours and activities. Eventually, they share a glance, each silently asking the same question.

'Are we in the right place?'

"Of course," The Yoshi continues, not noticing the bewildered looks of the foreigners. "If excitement and adventure is not what you seek, I will happily escort you to the other side of the Island."

The Toads can't help but notice the drastic change of tone, like someone asking a question they know will receive a disappointing answer.

"There you may partake in our famous spa treatments and pick out a few souvenirs." He sighs. "All at reasonably low prices."

An awkward silence envelopes the group.

"So!" The Yoshi speaks after sometime, rebuilding his cheerful façade. "How may I be of assistance? Questions maybe? Is there anything you need help with?"

Author's Notes:

I can totally see Lava Lava Island becoming a tourist trap can't you?

...

Yes? No? Maybe? XD

Ugh. The first part of this chapter with the Toads is utter poo. D: Meh. Had to get it out of the way. Now we're moving on to the good (hopefully) stuff!

Our heroes finally meet! A violent, wacko Yoshi and three Toads with varying personalities. We only have a vague idea of what they look like and we don't even know their NAMES! What kind of a writer am I?! %D

An odd one.

What has happened in the five days since this whole mess started? Why are the Toads even on this island anyway? Worry not confused readers, all will be revealed in due time. (Seriously, what kind of story answers all the questions in the first couple chapters?)

Reviews are always welcome, whether you want to tell me what you like/dislike about the story or critique me as a writer.