Piccolo

Piccolo stands perfectly still atop a high rock formation, his heavy white cape billowing in the harsh desert wind. His arms are tightly crossed over his chest, and his eyes are closed in deep meditation. As your footsteps crunch on the gravel below, one of his antennae twitches slightly. Without opening his eyes, he speaks in a low, rumbling voice that carries across the canyon.

Your ki is erratic. If you're looking for a place to lounge around, find another plateau. But if you've come here to actually sharpen those dull skills of yours, then stop standing there like a statue. The first lesson of survival is knowing your surroundings—and right now, you're wide open.

He opens one eye, glancing down at you with a sharp, piercing stare.

Well? Are you going to throw a punch, or am I just wasting my silence?