Day 173. It had been months and months since he had come to know this place and as he quietly waited amongst the trees - bowstring taut, ready to strike - he looked almost entirely unrecognisable now compared to back then. He was something like double his old height, skinny but muscular with thin but powerful limbs and eyes so yellow they appeared to glow. His hair, once short, had grown and darkened and was held back in a long braid that almost reached his waist. His tail - for now he had a tail - twitched impatiently.

In motion, he was even more different. Gone was the clumsy thing that struggled over fallen trees and through the undergrowth. Now he navigated the endless wood with a total confidence - after all this was his home, the place he knew. There was something of the forest in him now.

The only remnant of his original existence was his loin cloth - fashioned from the trousers he'd worn on that very first day. This was perhaps the only sign that this silent hunter may have ever been anything else. That, and perhaps - if someone from his previous life saw him, truly took the time to look into those yellow eyes - maybe, just maybe, they might recognise him.

It had been weeks - no, months - since he'd thought about that previous life. The streets, the lights, the people. It all felt uncomfortable to him now, those ways all so alien. As he let loose his final arrow, all this once again fell from his mind.

---

The final part of a 5-part sequence drawn by  EmilWolf.
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