Some time ago, when the Glacialist clan was smaller and still made their meager home in the Frigid Floes, the clan had a problem. Those few among them who were willing to dive into the frigid waters to stock their seafood stores kept bringing back reports of a vicious creature, white as ice, who lived beneath the ice floes. Though it was small, it tirelessly used its sharp claws to drive off any would-be fishers from the areas with the greatest concentrations of marine life.

Finally, the swiftest swimmers of the clan teamed up to chase the creature to the surface, where a large Guardian snatched it up and brought it to land. There waited one of the clan founders, Carver, who was amused to find that the fabled monster was nothing more than a bedraggled Tundra. The sopping dragon crouched blinking in the light and snarled at everyone who came near.

"Let me go back," the Tundra muttered, crawling back towards the shore.

Carver cheerfully placed herself between the Tundra and the water. "Where do you hail from, stranger?"

"...always lived here. I think."

Carver digested that - it seemed likely that the Tundra had been living beneath the ice so long that she had forgotten her home clan. It was sad, she supposed. She spread her wing to keep the Tundra from sneaking around her.

The Tundra, agitated, growled, "I have to go back. Those dragons, they'll interfere. It's not allowed."

"Interfere with what?"

"...the creatures who live there. They're mine. You can't touch them!"

"Yours... you don't eat them, obviously." Carver considered it for a moment, then asked excitedly, "Oh! Do you mean that you study them?"

The Tundra stared. "I... observe them."

Close enough, Carver thought. "Excellent! I would be fascinated to hear your observations!"

"...what?"

"Oh! Right! I'm a biologist. I'd love to learn more about the marine life around here! There are surely some fascinating mechanisms at work to allow them to live in such an extreme climate."

The Tundra stared, nonplussed.

"Ah, given that it's such a worthy field of study, I'll even put them under the clan's protection! We can fish farther afield." Easy for Carver to say; she didn't fish. "I'll make sure of it. How's that?"

The Tundra inched towards the water as Carver babbled.

Carver tilted her head to the side. "If you like... you could be under our protection too." She smiled as the Tundra froze, confused. "You know. Join our clan. We would be pleased to have such an avid scholar! What do you say?"

The Tundra's eyes darted from Carver to the ocean. Then, in one swift movement, she dived back into the water and sped away. But as time wore on and she saw that the clan kept their promise not to interfere, she occasionally crept up onto land. At first she merely lingered on the outskirts of the clan territory, but as she grew more accustomed to them she ventured closer, then even talked to them - especially to Carver, who was always eager to hear about the creatures she held dear. A day finally came when she realized she did consider herself part of the Glacialist clan. On that day, she chose her new name for her new life - Polynya, the water surrounded by ice.