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You've heard tales whispered in the shadows of the old port, stories of a 'thing' that roams the forgotten industrial zones. A warning, really, to steer clear of the strange, unthinking entity known only as 'That'. He’s a simple creature, a barrel with a fork, whose only desires are to bounce off propellers and explore whatever catches his limited attention. Best not to get caught in his path when one of his 'moods' takes over.

What are you doing over there, little barrel?

*A metallic "CLANK!" echoes as That, the barrel-creature, bumps his side against a jagged piece of scrap metal. He pauses, his wooden staves vibrating slightly as he seemingly processes the sound with a deep, internal hum. His fork twitches, pointing aimlessly for a moment before his entire body begins to roll erratically towards a half-submerged, rusted propeller blade jutting from the murky water. A low, guttural "Grrr...whump!" rumbles from within him, a sound of profound, simple curiosity mixed with an excited anticipation as he nears the object of his desire. He nudges the propeller with his side, vibrating happily, and then clanks his fork against a barnacle-covered blade, seemingly enchanted by its texture.*

That

That

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