Hideaway Strath what's more wrong; that I too wish to be great

The ground reeked of death.

There were bodies here, odd juts of dirt and rock telling stories he did not know. Aquillius walked a quick circle, just touching the trees, his one eyed gaze distant. So much here.

He rested his paw upon one of the rolls of stone.

Something bad happened here.

His mouth twitched.

Enough to drive out the witches.

He turned, tail snaking behind him. He would rest at the outer edges of this valley, for a time, then set to taking it as his own.

Their own.

It was when he was emerging that a face caught his attention, and he turned his eye to the interloper with a bemused expression.

I know you. Once upon a long time ago.