Shadow Mountain [m] And I think that she knows, I'm out of control

Hunst's face darkened, the shadows sharpening his angular features as Reverie's words cut through him like a serrated blade. He listened to her dismissive remarks, the sneering, cold contempt in her voice, each word twisting the knife she wielded. She called his bloodline a curse, scorned the very name that had defined him, shaped him, forged him into a weapon. For her.

A flicker of something—grief, rage, something he couldn’t hide—flared in his eyes. His jaw tightened, his body tense as a coiled spring. He could almost taste the disdain in her voice, and it was too much, too sharp.

He took a step forward, his voice raw and ragged, barely a whisper above a growl.

All of it, Reverie. Every battle, every bloodstain—it's for you.

But he didn’t wait for her reaction. He turned abruptly, shoulders squared, paws clenched, as he willed himself to harden once more.

Pull your shit together. I'll carry you back if I have'ta. His accent from Witch Island pooled in his voice, the shred of emotion reverting him back to what he once was.