a polar what?

Gilgamesh tried not to contradict his decisions as much as he could. Yet, he couldn't deny noticing what he saw among his pack members. They were missing something and he had a feeling what it was. Now that they had somewhat established themselves upon the isle (it still needed a ton of work - don't let him fool you), he figured that perhaps they could at least take back the beach. Claiming the archipelago would not be enough if they wanted to have some paw to stand on against potential future attacks. He wouldn't allow the Armada to blindside him again.

Taking whoever was interested in helping him take back the beach, Gil made his way through the frigid water. Unfortunately, there were too many of them to take the raft. Plus, navigating the rafts through the waters during this time of year was more difficult than just swimming the half mile or so. And though he was freezing, sure that everyone else was too, their icy swim would soon conclude as his paws hit the all-too-familiar black sand. He couldn't hide the smile that threatened to embrace his lips as he pushed the waves and gave his coat a good shake.

Inhaling deeply, he looked back to make sure everyone else had made it safely. Once his eyes had settled on each wolf, he turned his attention back to the beach. What he saw made his heart sink before it picked up pace. Lingering close to the cavern they once called home, a massive white beast appeared and began lumbering in their direction. Had they really been gone long enough for a fucking polar bear to show up and make itself at home?

"Looks like we'll have to take care of this before we can claim the beach again," Gil said as he kept his sights on the ivory ursine. "Surround it and pick at it until its too weak to fight back. Don't get too close or you're in for some pain," the Raid King warns them before setting forward to head straight at the bear's face. He wouldn't risk his pack if he wasn't going to do the same.