he was standing outside in the bitter cold that wieved throught the smallest holes in his clothing and stung bare skin. his name is aeson. an assasin. and this was supposed to be training. his master said it was to focus. focus on what? the only thing he new now was the evil cold of night. he looked at the black hevens above him that was litterd with hundreds of stars. a twig snapped.his body turned a hudred of internial cogs in his brain. his training came back in a flood. his body move instictivly. flowing gracefully. if this was a spy he was ready. he was in a perfect battle pose. just in the way he was taught. but out of the blanket of shadows came a harmless red fox. its eyes studying him. loading tonnes of information into its brain. it backed away slowly, carefully. its tail swining to a constant soundless beat. then a frogs endless song began. echoing off trees. a ferral cat purred in the distants. it was the song of the forest. this is what he meant be focas. this was training him to focas on the world around you.
'wicked' he muttered