Quote Witchety Grub:<br/>Draekin watches silently from the shadows beyond the fire's glow, his face expressionless.<br/><br/>He has not spoken with anyone of the Nation since he'd accepted Raissa's challenge and fled into the wilds. The memory of Kiitani's words that day still galled and itched at him, forcing him to examine them again and again, picking at them like a wound he refused to let heal. But in the emptiness of the land, Draekin could not stop the Mystic's words from reaching him, until he almost began to question what he knew to be true...and then would come to him the image of Raissa, as strong and beautiful as he remembered, her features curled into a mask of hatred of him. Her words were a lash, desire for her a twisted knot in his stomach.<br/><br/>Only by letting his Spirit rise within him could he quell the turmoil in his mind. Only then, bounding free under the waning moon, a dark howl in his throat, only then did things become clear to him. Then his purpose would return to him, clear and sharp, and he looked forward to his trial with feral glee.<br/><br/>And now he moves upright into the fire's light, his patched and ragged cloak of fur thrown back to reveal his naked torso, the play of muscles disguised by a network of old battle scars. The People part nervously to admit him, almost reluctantly, and he walks until he is less than a meter from the bonfire, the heat of it bringing a wince to his features. "I have come." he says, and he bares rows of clean white teeth.