Haunted Wood You let your feet run wild.

He doesn't like to be still for long periods - never has. Whether he was delegated patrols along Moonspear's slopes or roaming the westlands, Revui kept on the move, inspired by his basic drive to hunt, explore, and kill. He could do none of that here. He could not even stand up properly for all the weariness he felt, aided in no small part by whatever medicines had been forced down his throat.

When a voice came to him over the ledge of the pit, he turned an ear but did little else. The dull tone of the voice did not rouse his suspicion nor his ire, it just was. Revui glimpsed a figure lurking close a moment later, lifted his head, but said nothing. He followed the stranger with his eyes, those challenging eyes, looking very much like a hungry crocodile waiting at a watering hole. Except in this case there would be no meal, no further bloodshed, as Revui would not be able to catch his quarry.