The Paradise King lingered in the shadows at the edge of a small clearing, his cold gaze sweeping over the mares that grazed peacefully beside a gently flowing brook. This spot was one of his favorite retreats from the sweltering afternoon sun that blazed overhead. The only sounds breaking the stillness were the faint buzz of insects and the distant calls of macaws, barely eliciting a flick of his ear. The humidity clung to him like a damp cloak, making the air feel heavy and discouraging any movement within the shadows.

The gentle sound of hooves rustling through the underbrush pulled his icy stare away from the idle mares to the shadows lurking nearby. The familiar scent of Carthage filled his nostrils, and a smirk played at the corners of his lips. Whispers of their raid in the Thicket had been spreading, and it pleased the Paradise King. While the other Kings grew complacent and sluggish, they continued to hone their own skills.

Choosing to reside on Atlantis and savor the warm sands beneath his hooves didn’t mean he had to accept a monotonous existence. "Our raid was close to successful," he said, locking his frosty gaze with his Guardian’s dark eyes. A playful glimmer ignited within his icy stare. "Next time, we will approach in the night," he said, as he plotted ways to have a successful raid, a mischievous smile tugged at his lips, they shared visions of chaos and turmoil.

Together, they could breathe new vitality into the weary bones of these isles.