Great Bear Wilderness The pain beneath my scarred visage

Sitri was running fast against something. He was moving sluggishly through the motions. Where the hell was he. He saw faces from his past. His father's old grizzeled visage, a crazy smile on his face. A jester's face he had called it, make them think your crazy Sitri, always smile. He had not had to pretend that he was crazy because he was, like his mother before him. His father was shaking his head, not time for you to die yet son not time.

In his mind he ran and on the outside his legs moved rapidly and without direction, and if he was not careful. Not that he really noticed he would knock the poor healer over in his delirium. He could not hear her, not that he wouldn't have liked to see her again. He was just so far gone that he was unable to at the moment. A savage growl worked its way up from his chest, as he fought the demons in his head and the darkness on his eyes.