[h1][center][color=gray]Moros Vorsickle[/color][/center][/h1]
[center][img]http://cutmypic.com/uploads/title836536591.png[/img][/center]




Moros yawned as he made his way through the city, Lefay imitating the movement as did whenever she was in his shape. He didn't complain about it, even though he always got weird looks when she did that, he learned long ago it only encouraged her. His stomach growling at him reminded him that he'd skipped his breakfast to get here early, which meant that he was eager to get something to eat. After all, it wouldn't do to enter such a prestigious tournament on an empty stomach and preform any less than his best. Even though he didn't think he'd get that far. He'd done well at his own Academy but here he was supposed to be fighting the best from everywhere. 

Still, his mother wouldn't settle for anything but first place so he had to at least try for her. His thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound and a sudden darkness. Glancing upwards Moros saw a large rock hurtling through the air, seemingly aimed to impact only a few streets ahead of him and he could've sworn he'd seen someone on top of it. Surely no one was foolish enough to attack here. Now curious Moros picked up his pace a little so he could arrive at the landing spot and see what the deal was. Lefay seemed equally curious and ran ahead of him, turning to face him to make sure he could read her lips and called backwards, [b]"Race ya wimp."[/b] before continuing on. [i]Maybe if you didn't have to carry this massive harp.[/i] Moros thought grumpily as he chased after.