Spotted Eagle Mountain three victories do not make you a conqueror

meant to be a read-only, but someone may jump in to witness him leaving. :)

The world has moved on from the tales of Vaati and his perilous escapades, and he to has moved on from remembering them. A stain on what could have been a glorious reputation, he deems his wartorn history a more-than-mild grievence rather than a favour. He had become many things in very little time; an odd child to berserker without bounds, a bloodthirsty tyrant to a deposed former-conqueror. The thrill of it all had ravenged him; the blood spilt at his command, the number of lives claimed and the utter chaos a mere action from his own hand could create. It was overpowering, and ultimately, became his own downfall. In a bittersweet twist of fate, his enemies had soon become his most valued allies and in turn, his family had become no more than distant strangers. It settles a sour taste on his tongue, recalling his inability to locate his scattered brethren for many moons until he came to the realization that he cared very little for them in reality. Subsquently, Blackfeather Woods became no longer his home ... existing as no more than a memory to the many deaths it lent its grounds to. There is nothing for him there to return to, and so he doesn't. 

The frigid north winds atop the mountian range hit violently against his cheek, pushing him away from the direction of the onimous dark forest in the distance. However, neither does it lean him towards the moon's precipice, where a certian fiery, dark-haired girl would await his return (@Alya). Perhaps it is cruel to leave behind what miniscule flicker of hope he had invested in the possibility of a future between them, but Vaati is a man who holds no alliegence, bound by no morals or virtues. He holds fealty to no earthly entity but his own greed and there should be little else expected from him. And so he pushes the narritave that he could never submit himself to her love wether he chose to or not, for he is not a creature built for caring in the way that he knows she should for her. Happiness is fleeting, and so is he. 

A loose canon with a short fuse tamed only by calculative yet brief reigns of terror, he is disaster personified, and things tend to die by his hand wether he desires it or not. He knows there will still yet come a time when the wilds will inevitably tremble beneath his wrath once more as it tends to do, and when that time comes, he knows he must not be swayed by what others may beg of him, nor what his family or the woods or anyone demands of him. Reckless emotion had ruled his last attempt at creating peace through tyranny, and thus, forced isolation through his blackened name was where he decided would teach him to seperate the man from the monster, at the expense of his own happiness. He needed to find a plan to place his future in, but could not find such perspective out of the toils of war, betrayal and memories he would rather leave behind.

As he creeps back along the mountian range to make his exit from the wilds so that the world may continue to blissfully forget about him, he makes his peace with what he leaves behind in doing so and moves on from the chapter of utter failure in his short life. When and if he returns, he cannot say who he would have become, only that the same mistakes will not be made.