Wapun Meadow crossroad demons
seraphs sob at vermin fangs
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Ooc — Talamasca
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He knew now he could not go west, and to head north again would lead Glaukos back to the bypass where he had been driven away. His body was a mess of bruises, bites, and scrapes but those would mend, while his pride was in tatters. Going south seemed to be the only course of action and so the man made camp among the reeking glade, and over the course of a few days he crossed to the heart of a familiar meadow.

The soldier found himself utterly unmoored. He held no purpose; he was neither fit to take orders nor respected enough to give them. He reeked of the bog and his own blood rather than any pack scent. As he crossed through the heart of the meadow, Glaukos felt a strange nostalgia taking hold of him.

He saw the many overgrown paths of his youth, leading towards a valley he had thought he'd never see again, and found himself unable to go on.