He sat on the beach, legs crossed, his eyes closed as he appeared to be meditating. Well, maybe sat isn't all that correct. He was more hovering just a few inches above the black sands that made up this nations land. Fire burned all around him, except for a small flame free circle situated around him. He wore nothing but black robe looking shorts. His wings, an pale coloring of green were draped across him like some grotesque cloak. The tentacles on his face were constantly moving, albeit slowly, almost peacefully. Circular red markings, not unlike crop circles, adorned his entire body, and they glowed with a soft red light. He had been in that position for the past three days. He had not eaten, or even breathed in all that time. He was waiting, but he did not know what for. Perhaps some kind of epiphany, maybe a sign that that he was on the right path. Regardless, he continued to float there, the flames crackling around him.