Monday, Spring 1
7:20 AM, Floating Around Fiora Falls
[i][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOt0tW26hRY]~Ping Pong Circulate~[/url][/i]

It was an excited 'woop' that brought Brent Roless, the vagrant of romance and discovery, out of his state of tranquillity, as he floated, submerged up to his chin in the ice-cold water. His legs were crossed, as if he was sitting...except he wasn't. In a show of almost superhuman balance and breathing control, an ability manifested by the state of Zen brought by immersing him in the flood of winter's tears, Brent was sitting on water itself. It was almost like levitation, a miracle brought forth by intense focus, and yet, complete dissociation from the real world.

Needless to say, the 'woop' that broke his unthinking concentration also made him sink once more. His nose fell below the waterline and the lack of oxygen woke Brent up in full, his amber eyes opening intensely, his nostrils flaring out as it shot a spray of mist. Uncrossing his legs and kicking against the riverbed, he rose upwards in an instant, water droplets following his lead. With a twist of his head, his wet hair sent the white spray of the river upwards, sparkling in the morning light. Countless water droplets glistened like small jewels, accentuating his well-toned, one-pack body as his hands rose upwards, sweeping his hair out of his eyes and against his skull. An accompanying breeze chilled him to the bone, but he turned towards it, stretching his arms outwards, as if embracing it. The sharp, biting coldness felt nice, and with a sigh, the young man fell backwards, back to becoming one with the cold water.

By now, his body was accustomed to such temperatures, and he felt like it would be alright to doze off a bit longer. All considerations regarding the oddly human sound he had heard before disappeared from his mind. After all, it was early in the morning, and he doubted that any children were up and about.

And anyways, Brent wasn't shy about his body in any way. After all, humans are naturally naked, and all things considered, the amount of time that humanity's ancestors have stayed almost-naked was longer than the amount of time than they have spent fully clothed. As long as his basic masculine reflexes in regards to the possibility of reproduction don't arise, he's only a nudist, not a sexual offender.

So it's totally fine to take it easy and float about a bit longer~
---
7:40 AM, Finishing the Bath
[i]~No Wind No Win~[/i]

Another twenty minutes was spent doing nothing, and Brent's fingertips were well beyond wrinkly by then. It was actually sorta creepy looking at them, and with that, the explorer took it as his cue to leave. Admiring the natural scenery around him one more time, before making a resolution of also taking a midnight dip later on, he plunged the entirety of his body into the water, curling like a cannonball, holding his breath as long as he could. The ice-water wrapped him, bading him to stay just a bit longer, but all nice things must come to an end eventually. He had a job to do, after all.

Or, if nothing else, he needed to find a job to do.

Without a shred of hesitation or reluctance, he rose out of his giant bathtub, and with practised steps, navigated through undercurrents and slippery rocks, before reaching dry land once more. His foot casually stirred the smouldering embers of the fireplace he had set up previously, and with a crack and a rasp, small flames eagerly licked at slim sticks. The kindling was soon devoured, nurturing the flames until it became a warm fire. Practice made perfect, and Brent had many chances to practice before. By now, he's got the mystical art of fire-making down to a science.

Except the warmth of the fireplace, however comforting, ran counter-intuitively to his New Year's resolution of becoming immune to the cold.

Thus, with a sigh, he stepped away from the bubble of warmth he had constructed, and stood out, waiting for the wind to dry him.

It didn't, for the last dregs of the storm at dawn had departed, leaving , and it was with some relief that Brent could let himself dry normally, his frozen skin thawing as he put his springtime clothing on once more.

Trousers, a collared shirt, and a windbreaker tied around his waist, as well as a tough leather satchel that carried most of the essentials for orientation and wilderness survival.

Oh yeah, and boots.

With this outfit, Brent could literally do any job, from that of a rugged outdoors huntsman, to a busser in a high-class restaurant, charming the noveau riche with his stories of adventures in far away lands. Except such jobs didn't exist, so he'll probably just have to settle with something in...

[b]“I'll try the cafe first then. Need a canteen of ice tea for the day as well...”[/b]