Achillies peered out of the netting in his tent. The sky was the same, dark and grey. "Chances of sun. Zero!" He angrily muttered to himself scowling. He really never smiled though. Well he did sometimes. But those were very rare. He thought for a moment before strumming on his guitar and sung "I play on the Thursday, the sky's still black. It's hard to play with Gaea on your back. The sky is darkening the sun is gone, I've been playing since it all went wrong!" His thick British accent really came through when he sung. He carried on singing before handling his swords. "Huh? What's this? A smudge? I thought I cleaned this yesterday!" He hid his guitar and stormed outside. "Alright!" He yelled "who wrecked my sword?"