The first thing Matti felt stepping off the plane and into the Great Falls airport was relief, because the flights from Reykjavik to Washington, DC to Denver to Great Falls had been... well, an experience.

The second thing he'd felt, once he had time to really think and feel, was... unbalanced. Oh, the team was wonderful. They'd had two people waiting for him at the baggage claim, a man from the coaching staff and one of the forwards. None of his frantic post-draft pre-flight research and last minute Googling had helped him with their names, but, well, 28 hour flight and all, they'd been forgiving enough. They'd made a quick stop by the front office to give him a minute to sign a few papers and to shake a few hands, and then they'd taken mercy on him, taken him to his apartment for the season and left him to crash on top of the covers. It wasn't until he'd woken up half a day later, dehydrated and bleary-eyed, that he'd realized how unsettled he felt. While he waited for yet another teammate to come pick him up for a team lunch - getting a car was quickly bumping up his list of priorities - Matti put his finger on what was so odd about this place as to leave him uncomfortable in his own skin.

He was a continent and a half away from home. Where he'd grown up in a port town, here he was just slightly more than 1,000 kilometers from the nearest city with ocean access. There were trees everywhere he looked outside, instead of the familiar moss- and lichen- covered hills.

Matti smiled his way through the incredible lunch the team had set out for the four of them - bear claws, of course, included for dessert. He chatted eagerly enough with the other 'bear cubs' as they made their way to the locker rooms, found their stalls, got settled in. They were great, as excited as he was - and he was excited, he kept telling himself - to hit the ice and start building onto the Grizzlies' legacy. But, through it all, there was something in him that stayed off-balance and aware of everything unfamiliar, that began to doubt whether he'd really made the right choice, thinking he could come here and play at the level they wanted of him.

And then he stepped onto the ice and breathed. His nerves settled. The ice smelled the same as at home. His skates, as he took a slow lap around the rink, bit into the surface just as they had before. His crease, when he settled into it, chipped up the ice, took a few minutes to swing post to post after an imaginary puck, was much the same as his net in Akureyri.

In a matter of minutes on the ice, Matti had found his new home, and he was ready.

((WC 483))