The Heartwood all else perished, and he remained
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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Ooc — Talamasca
Master Warrior
Ecologist
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Once his wrath tempered some, he would find himself at a loss for what to do next. He knew he needed to speak to his sister before he left --- or that's what he believed, still afraid to cut his ties and abandon the family he had thus far worked so hard to protect. If he left without a word then that would be the end of things. A bridge burned. Revui would become like the mythical Korei Julia except where she was renowned for her soft heart, Revui would be known by his family as something boorish and dim, most likely. A good soldier who lost his way. Or they would not think of him at all - and in coming face to face with him in the wilderness, perhaps they would try to take his life. So many possibilities rose up with his doubts, to the point that Revui did not know where to go or what to do. Kukutux had been right when she said h needed to find his own way — but how, without her? How, when each choice he made landed him squarely back upon Moonspear's doorstep, desperate and alone?

He hiked through the glen and towards the sprawling forest beyond it, feeling the burn of his wounds and forcing himself to keep going. Whatever Kukutux had done to stave off infection and stem the blood had been for nothing; Revui's constant movement had reopened the tear along his lower back, and from this seeped red and yellow fluids. He came to rest on the fringe of the Heartwood. He ducked among the ferns there and soon was hidden in the shadows, to rest and to brood over the many mistakes he had made.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑