Haunted Wood Some liar brought the thunder.

For days he had been alone. Waiting. Lurking, more like. Hunting for those that had wronged him. It had been part of his half-baked plan while deep in that pit; to fight for the survival of himself but above all, for Orochi, and to give him time to seek out the wolves of Moonspear. Yet in the days that came after, as his fever for bloodshed and battle burned unchecked within him, there came no reprieve. No word travelled down from the mountain and Revui did not see, hear, or smell any sign of his family. Perhaps the boy had failed in his task? Perhaps he had succeeded, but his family had left him for dead? He did not think long about the why and focused on the when — trusting in Orochi, and in the rage inherent to his family. They would come. Together they would brutalize the beasts of these woods and Revui would be triumphant.

Or so he thought, fuelled so strongly by his rage.

When he was met with another body it was not a guard such as Tzila, or Black Hat, or even the woman that Revui had nearly torn to pieces and devoured on that fateful day; it was the giant, prowling to where the boy lurked as if he had known all along that he was waiting there. Revui stared him down with a glare of unmitigated animosity, bristling as soon as the first whiff of the man's musk hit his nose; it was warm, spiced almost, cutting through the cold.

I thought you would have been long gone by now. Boomed the man's voice, breaking through the sluice of ice and slush that dominated around them both. Revui's stare did not waver—boldly, he pressed in on the man's periphery, striding without hesitation until the last second, not attacking but not backing down either. He doesn't want to speak, he wants to maim, crush bone, tear flesh. Alas, he cannot always get what he wants.

I will kill them. His tone was certain, grim and hollow.