Whilst studying amongst the Occitan order, Uumdi traveled alongside for a short time, dressing as they dressed, marching as they marched. In the dead of the night, plagued by his own lethargy and repressive nature, he strayed from the campsite and made his way to a nearby swamp, to meditate on the stagnant waters.
Thoughts assaulted his mind for a time, as stirring winds rustled his dirty clothes and insects bit his oily skin. Breaking past his urges to sleep and abandon this ascetic retreat, the lake of his mind finally settled. As the rippled surface turned to a sheet of glass, it became clear. With clairaudient precision he suddenly heard what he needed to hear.
Ribbit. Ribbit.