It had been a long year since the whirling chaos of the last winter market. Nearly an entire cycle of seasons but as the leaves turned and the wind blew, he knew winter would return again. Bite of Passage had retreated further into himself since his conversation with The Other under the abstract light of the glowing tree. The Other’s final words echoed back at him in his dreams ‘Has your life become so tedious?’ His life had always been tedious. He listened to Night Father’s orders without any real faith in his preaching because it was easy and predictable. He got a thrill out of the hunt, and took satisfaction in the creative arrangement of his sacrifices but there was little joy there. It was orderly and predictable. There was never any guilt or regret, no moral hang ups over his actions but neither he had come to realize, did it bring actual happiness.
That alone had set him in a spiral because what did he want happiness for? What was its purpose? His moments in the strange pockets of reality last winter weren’t clear memories but the feelings that he had kept chasing remained. He wanted more of that… whatever it was.
Living in the tar pits and assisting Night Father in his misguided obsession with The Harbinger (misguided only in that Bite knew Who was really the orchestrator of their growing freedom now) wasn’t the answer. He had tried to return to what was normal and predictable but he was Marked now and Night Father had taken that as a sign of betrayal. And so he wandered alone through the swamp.
Bite thought about the legendary, No Escape, who had approached and challenged The Other as they spoke. She… was also misguided. The swamp wasn’t limitless. It was as the Other had said, a swamp. The rifts, the Obelisks, even the emergence of the tar pits. The Change that had been building and reshaping the swamp was all due to The Other’s influence and power and each change offered more freedom to the kin bound within the Swamps boundaries.
’Caution ties you down even now, like ropes around your body. ‘
He had played it cautiously his entire life. He had chosen to live within the boundaries and rules set by his grandfather’s cult because it allowed him the ability to indulge in a single vice without repercussions or so he’d been led to believe. But what repercussions were there? What was going to strike him down that he hadn’t the skills and experience to defend against? Only time it seemed.
’Trees die.-And it is part of the natural order. There are rules that must be followed, and they will follow them. It is impossible to win when you cannot cheat.’
That was it. The repercussion was death and in the end, he had been chasing it his entire life. Pitting himself against the creatures and kin of the swamp and overpowering them every time. Delivering death himself and rejoicing in the finality and power that came from it.
He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want his cycle to end. He had spent so much time in stagnation he wanted it back. It was time to figure out how to cheat.
(Words:551
Credit to Baneful for The Other's dialogue pulled from ORP )