Moonspear give me something

Nothing would ever change with him, she recognized. He would always be this way. Time and time again, she put her faith in him, her hopes in him—

Insanity. It was insanity. 

He was the most untrustworthy of them all; kinslayer, oathbreaker, abandoner—

She could scarce believe her ears. But Revui, like her, did not lie. 

Stepping backward, Hydra's cold, low voice echoed off of the walls of where she had let him slumber for weeks past, hovering over the imprint outside of it left behind by her from the hours of keeping watch: Get up, she commanded, and get out. She was finished with him, truly now. Too dim to see all that she had done for him, and Kukutux too, she knew there was no getting him to understand the measure of the love she held for him. The last vestiges of it which saved him even then from her wrath. Loyalty to himself was what he had chosen, and he would find the result of it very bleak.