The dull pain hammered his skull, accompanied by an unbearable hunger he awoke. Confused he observed where he was, it looked like a clearing within the middle of a forest however rather than feeling enchanting it felt like a cage of twigs and luscious jade leaves. Sitting up his stomach was turning it felt as if he'd been starved for days and as he breathed in he felt the harsh air scrape at his throat. Slowly he climbed off the wooden stump he had been on and searched for food. Within his eyes there was a bush a few steps away. His feet felt familiar against the grass and dirt however as he tried to make his way he realised his legs had no strength. Crashing down he slammed into the ground.

'Dammit, the hell!' he blurted out while writhing in pain. Determined to fill his stomach he tried to get up again, his legs shaked under him but he bit down on his lip and started walking. Each step felt daunting and his body quivered desperately crying out to give up. As he marched onwards his nose picked up a sweet scent from the plant, it was enchanting yet he couldn't recognise it. Slowly he picked up pace with each step and dug his hands into the bush searching for it. As he grabbed at it he dug his teeth into it. 'So sweet, it has such a great texture, soft but chewy. Wait is that iron?' looking at what was in his hand he soon realized it was not some kind of fruit but a rabbit. The rabbit had been injured and was hiding in the bush to recover. His heart felt guilty but his stomach was pleased and giving into it's sways he continued ripping at the flesh more viciously than before. It brought him ecstasy and satisfaction.

Once he finished it his stomach no longer ached and the blood had been an acceptable replacement for water however as he looked at his blood stained hands he couldn't help but imagine the kind of savage he may have looked like. Then he realised as he looked down to look at his less than impressive dagger that had been hanging out, in that moment shame overtook him. 'Oh lord of the forest, why the hell am I naked. Even goblins wear clothes.'

Curling on the floor he cried out, 'the shame I brought to my ancestors.' At the moment he realised something he couldn't remember who he was. No, it was more than that in his mind he remembered things such as different animals and how to live but nothing that really made him unique. To him it felt as if the only things he knew were to speak and to live. His mind felt frustrated not remembering who he was and a sharp pain engulfed him every time. Slowly the day passed from noon and into the night, his desperate attempts left him stuck in his own mind wallowing at this feeling of emptiness.

Eventually the fact the moon was out dawned on him. He needed to sort out how to survive, he cursed his own stupidity and not focusing on surviving. Looking around he needed shelter he was reminded of its importance as the night breeze ran shivers down his spine. He began looking around the clearing slowly mapping it out he noted down the bush and had found on a different edge a small pond of clear water. Going around he collected sticks and larger branches intending to build a lean to against the stump. But when he returned to the stump he realised laying in the grass on the otherside was a long sword like shaped figure. It was wrapped in leather bandages, tightly wound as if whoever did it feared whatever held it could escape. Sigils ran across it, in a purple hue the engraving seemed to have been done with a stick and then the dyes were added afterwards since there were signs of the pigment spilling out of the engravement. Deciding to not touch it till the next morning he built his small lean to and lay under it. His mind was plagued with fears of being attacked in the night yet slowly drowsiness overtook him.

In his sleep he dreamt of a little boy. The boy was crying while sitting in the empty forest. As he got closer to the boy he saw the child was covered in rags with marks of tears in the back, looking as if it came from some kind of whip. Slowly as he approached the boy the forest began to silence as the boy's cries grew louder.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

The child turned to him, his grey hair covered in dirt and his ruby eyes had swollen from being bruised. The man did not know why his heart ached while looking at this boy.

Then the child replied, 'nothing, I'm not crying.' He tried pretending he was alright. Yet he could tell from the shaking of his voice the child was close to breaking.

He held the child as if it were his own, the boy felt the kindness in the action and began to cry. The tears were not of sadness but of joy, a child that had never known comfort. Once the child stopped crying he wiped away his swollen eyes.

'Are you ready to tell me why you were crying?'

The boy nodded and then spoke, 'I made papa angry, he said not to go into the cave but I did anyway. Then I saw it.'

'Saw, what?'

'Him,' the boy pointed behind the man.

The man tried to turn but something held him in place, the bloodlust that crawled against his back was unsurpassable. He felt like a lone hare in the eyes of a wolf pack. Behind him he felt cold. It seemed to suck away everything, warmth, happiness and comfort.

Then the boy smiled, 'thank you mister for helping me. But you should wake up now.'

He felt a jolt in his head and he was shocked awake.