Ulysses was a natural predator. From a young age he had discovered his talent for the hunt. The mutation that grew within him created a valuable asset that his father and brother needed to hunt crocalisks, the gigantic six legged gators that floated along the bayous like ancient biblical leviathans. Early in the morning, while the beasts slumbered, he would slip into the murky waters with nothing more than a knife and wait on the river floor. Sometimes for minutes, sometimes hours. It was only during the hunt that Ulysses found peace. The absolute dedication of one's self to a task brought about a serene calmness that flooded his body with warmth. Even along the freezing river bed his body would burn with anticipation, every centimeter of his skin tingling with excitement for what was to come. Catfish, serpents, and spider-like crustaceans would crawl along him, unaware of his presence, treating him if he were a slumbering gator. Eventually one of the gargantuan reptiles that resembled a gator of the lost world would lazily float above him, its eyes fixated on the surface of the water, its hunt, much like Ulysses, only concerning the creatures that dared fly above it. It was during those moments that Ulysses would drive his knife into the belly of the beast and simply wait. The shock from the action alone was always enough to send the gators into a panic, causing them to swim away, allowing the knife to simply cut alone, spilling its organs into the murky waters.

Ulysses snapped up from his dream of his old life, before his family fell apart, before he was alone. There was little that he still remembered from those times, his long-term memory having rapidly decayed over the past few years. Only shadows of memories remained, though Ulysses was unsure if that were worrisome or not. The pain in his chest when he thought of his family had lessened as the memories began to blur. Perhaps it was a gift those above that he could forget that which caused him pain. Ulysses quickly gathered himself, noticing the man that he had been stalking lately seemed to be on the move. The man was an oddity that drew Ulysses in like moths to a flame, for he was unlike anything he had seen. His skin was neither white nor black, but a soft brown, like tanned leather. It was a mutation that Ulysses had never seen before and it seemed to strange, for it was so very mundane. The strange man's boat was stranger yet, for it had sails, yet it lacked paddles. The man beginning to make his way down the river was almost a blessing to Ulysses though, for it sparked the thrill of the hunt within him once more. Soon he would meet this man and ask him about his strange skin and his stranger ship. Unless the man was mean, like the others. Ulysses wasn't sure he could handle more disappointment. He just wanted to meet another human, make a new friend. Maybe one that knew how to read! One that could read the storybook that bared his name. The book that was protected by nearly a dozen waterproof bags that Ulysses had scavenged from convenience stores.

Ulysses brought his bag and bow over his shoulder and emerged from the derelict home he had been hiding in, chasing after the boat with bright eyes. As he reached the river, without hesitation he dove in sinking quickly to the river bed where he quickly swam along after the boat, hidden beneath the thick murky water that was as familiar to him as the open air. Soon he had closed the gap between himself and the boat and emerged from the water where the anchor sat, grabbing onto it. He tugged carefully, making sure it would not drop him before he pulled at it, dredging himself up from the water. The process of pulling himself up to the deck was slow, though he had his practice climbing things that weren't meant to be climbed. It was just a matter of time at this point. With a sharp breath, he lurched up and grabbed onto the railing, looking over at the dark skinned man with hair black like night. "Brown man, would you help me up?"