Mission:
A silhouette of a wolf sitting on the edge of a cliff was devouring a roasted gull's drumstick when a blue-gray triangular shape thing stuck out of the turquoise sea. The silhouette turned out to be a jet-black wolf as its eyes snapped open, revealing blue eyes with purple mist-like swirls. She licked the bone with her rough tongue until the remnants of the roasted flesh were consumed. Then, she lazily tossed the bone down to the sea. Her keen ears heard the dull thud as the bone hit the shark's sandpaper skin, and the loud crack as the shark closed its jaws upon it. The wolf closed her eyes once again, and visions of the day before played before her eyes. The wolf was down on one knee as a pine marten stared at her. "Simbrie, I heard you have experiences with dealing with sharks, yes?" "Aye." "What do you know of the shark circling us now"

"That shark, the Ivory Phantom is what it is called from the Far East. It has the strength of a dozen badger Lords in its torso and tail, more than a score in its jaws, and it's teeth as sharp as the icy gale of the North. But its weakness is that it has a brain the size of an ant's leg and an I.Q. of a rat's flyblown corpse."

"I see," nodded the pine marten.
"Lord Ublaz, do you want something from me?"
"Yes. Eliminate it, and you'll be rewarded well."
"Yes milord"

Simbrie gave a sigh. It has been seasons and seasons since she had hunted sharks. It was a hobby of hers, back in the days before she reached Sampetra. Shaking her head, she stood and walked off. A bird called above, and smirking, the wolf quickly tied the silver dagger she had from Voldelamort, the Dark One, to her black, ox-hide whip. Quick as lightning, she thrust the dagger point up with the whip trailing it. The force of the thrust made the sharp dagger pierce through the bird's wing. Then she pulled the whip back with the bird on the other end. She untied the dagger from the whip and grabbed both the bird's wings and went off towards the taverns. She looked at the shrieking bird, and thought, Roasted falcon tonight! She licked her lips and started to skip. Others stared at her and the falcon, whose beak was bound together with leather and the wings with sinew. And from that sinew was a rope that tied about Simbrie's waist belt. Swiveling a goblet of grog in her paw, thinking. She thought of her flawless hunt of sharks on The God Eater's Chariot, the ship she took over from Ka Anor. The same sea rat whose giant horde killed her parents and forced Simbrie to stain her young paws with blood, the blood of the foe and her family. The blood that will always be there, no matter how many times she scrubs and washes her paws. Oh, how much she loved her parents, who taught her the ways of life, and the code of the Nyteskys. And loved her so, and would risk anything for her and Oh-Ryan, even their lives. And that is what they did, on the night of Simbrie's 6th birthday. Her eyes shut tight as anger boiled in her, and the goblet shattered from it. Visions of the same night flashed before her. Ka Anor atop of the den, laughing as his uncountable numbers of vermin surrounds her parents, who transformed into the Hell Hounds of Hellgates, which fought madder then mad beasts. A tear was threatening to overflow onto her cheek as other visions came. Oh-Ryan dragging her off, her fight with him, the hiding place, Captain Boom, Hakinay, Wolfling, Ka Anor, and the killings. Quickly wiping the tear, she shook her head and thought of something else. Shark Hunting. Ah, those were the days. It all started when she took out her anger upon an Ivory Phantom, and ended up killing, skinning, and cooking it. After that, she hunted more others. Muddy Arrows, Striped Dirks, Mercury Daggers, Silver Darts, and a Rare One. The Rare One, Hammerheads they call them here, is the only one I used bait upon. The Ivory Phantom I hunted was a weak one, but the Rare One was strong, and maybe as strong as the Ivory Phantom that's circling the island now. I made a vow after hauling that Rare One out of the waters that I'll use bait whenever dealing with strong ones, for I nearly lost a limb. Bait… Suddenly, it dawned on her. The falcon! The falcon must be young, and less experienced, or else it would've turned it's head and sink it's wickedly hook beak into my paw if it had the chance instead of shrieking. And since it is young, the flesh would be juicy and tender. So tender, that it would make even the driest mouth water, cooked or raw. Grabbing the bird, she dashed to her ship, into her cabin, and dived under her bed, letting the bird go before. Taking out a black chest, she opened it with a silver key which hung on a long chain around her neck and hidden under her shirt. Inside, she found her mother's fan, her father's black stone knife filled with venom of an adder and crushed dried leaves and stems of poisonous plants, and then came upon a bundle of long sinew. Quickly, she braided it into a long, thin and strong rope. Simbrie stopped walking at the edge of the same cliff where she got the falcon. She outstretched her left arm over the thrashing waves below, praying that there will be no other shark miles around. Smirking, she held the silver dagger in her other paw.

"Taste the blood of your killer, Phantom!!!" she yelled at the sea and slashed her arm. Blood gushed out and into the sea. After half a liter of blood, Simbrie withdrew her arm and licked the wound, which stopped bleeding at once. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a gray shape slicing through the torrents towards the reddened water. Simbrie took out the braided sinew and made a harness out of one end and fitted the falcon through. She took off the blinding of the beak and the wings. It tried to fly away, but its feet is weighted by stones heavy enough to keep it from flying, and light enough to float.

As the shark greedily snapping in the bloody waters for flesh, Simbrie tossed the falcon out and held on to the sinew rope. She waited until a splash sound and she wound the rope around a rock once and grabbed the other end, which was fashioned into a large lasso. Simbrie leapt of the cliff and was surprised that the falcon was still alive, and nearly escaped the jaws of the shark with its wings propelling it through the water. She swung the lasso in midair and let go. Her aim was true. It looped around the beast's neck as the monster thrashed in rage. Landing on the back, she swiftly tightened the loop around the neck and behind the jawbone. Holding onto the rope for dear life as the Ivory Phantom bucked underneath, she took out the silver dagger. Then she jumps onto the head and sunk her black claws into the flesh. With free paw that was holding the dagger, she slash above the jaw bone and cut deep. It took several quick slices at the tendons, and the jaw muscle came loose. The right side of the shark's mouth became limp. Taking the muscle into her paw, she leapt from shark to the rope again. Simbrie looked down at the muscle, her mouth watering. The sunlight glinted off the smooth surface of the fresh muscle, which was still moving. She shoved it into her mouth, and blood gushed from it as she bit into it like a sponge being squeezed. The bitter and sweet taste of the raw flesh made her mouth yearn for more. Licking her lips and cherishing the taste that still lingers in her mouth, she reached into her pouch, and took out a bottle of white powder. Simbrie took a deep breath and held it, and then she opened the bottle and poured a pawful of powder into her free paw. Resting the bottle on a small ledge, she leaped again and thrust her paw that is holding the powder into the half limp mouth, with the other paw and foot paws keeping the mouth opened. She poured half the powder into the throat and divided the remaining equally into the other paw. She then shoved them into the shark's nostrils. She quickly washed her paws after that, feeling faint because the lack of oxygen, and jumped up to the rope again. Finally, she let go of her breath. Closing her eyes in enjoyment, she inhaled deeply. She put the bottle into her pouch again and climbed up. Once she reached the top, she pulled on the other end of the rope that has the bird up. Simbrie shook her head in amazement as the falcon, though wet, was still in one piece, but sleeping peacefully. Must've caught a whiff of my sleeping powder, didn't you? She un-harnessed the falcon, and decided to thank it by letting it keep its life for it helped her to capture the shark. Sighing, she turned to the other end of the sinew rope. And pulled. After a long while, Simbrie finally got the shark over the edge as it slept. Simbrie wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her paw, and laughed out loud with triumph in her voice. Then, using her dagger, she slit the white belly of the shark, and then the stomach, and her face twisted in horror. A shriveled, blue-green arm of a rat, top half of a ferret, and a tail of a monitor lizard within shatters of wood from vessels. Her keen nose caught a whiff of the putrid smell and she held her churning stomach. She was sure that if her fur were shaved off, she'd be a green beast! Simbrie gulped, and disconnect the stomach from the body and dump the contents into the sea. Dragging the beast to the tavern kitchens, where she made soup out of the edible parts, threw away a sick looking kidney and saved one to make a pouch, and the stomach, to make a bodice for a matey, the skin to make various armory and weaponry, and the teeth, of course to make weapons and decorations. And now, I present to you, Ublaz-sama*, shark fin soup, a delicious cuisine treasury from the Far East.

* sama is a Japanese adverb of a person to be worshipped or is a great leader