"Rokan" Ismeina said. Her whisper was a calling from the beyond.

I open my eyes, it is morning already and it's time to move on, but first I need to get down from this tree.

For the past few days, I have been on the move, wandering constantly inside these woods, never heading too deep where the trees are still green and growing up to the clouds and no light cuts through their foliage, for there be monsters larger than houses that I sometimes glimpse at before quickly rushing back to the forests I've grown used to.

A part of me, that part I tried before so hard to silence, demands that I seek revenge. But even If that part is louder and clearer than ever before, I still refuse to surrender myself completely to it, I can't give up what little humanity I have remaining.

So I left, I know Ismeina would have wanted me to leave the humans alone, or at least I think she would have.

Living in the woods is much easier when my body is strong and now that of an adult. I can run, jump and throw my spear with precision, I can hunt burrowed bunnies and fish from rivers. The wound on my shoulder has closed nicely with rest and the aid of what little herbs I could find.

I travel East, where I was told to go. So I follow the birth of the sun with a steady step, avoiding anything too large or any human-made path I find.

Ismeina's death weighs heavy in my mind and heart, I hope she is at peace from the pain I caused her now.

To keep myself distracted I practice with my weapons, the spear is great for keeping danger at a manageable distance. The hatchet I can use better with both hands, and still makes the distance between me and possible danger, but the dagger is the quickest to use, and also the one that makes no distance between me and an enemy.

If I needed to defend myself the spear is the best weapon I have. I know best how to use it.

The day has become in itself a type of routine, waking up, seeking food, hunting, eating, training, and walking until the sun comes down. The cold each night grows more unforgiving as well, but at least I'm not hungry.

Raw meat doesn't taste bad when you are hungry, but how I miss the delicious stew that I got used to eating, and the long nights reading inside the house. One often forgets how the mundane can often be irreplaceable until it is taken away.

And while my knowledge is greater than ever before, I'm fit, nimble, and geared to survive in these woods it all feels, like it lacks purpose. I watch the falling leaves of autumn around me and I realize that they and I are not different.

We drift to the inevitable end, aimless, carried by the wind.

And after a few more days, when there are almost no more leaves on the trees, and the sun is clouded by storms that never leave yet it never rains, finally it begins to snow.

The white dust slowly coated everything around me, forcing my sleep to be done on the ground after trying to sleep on a branch only to painfully fall after my body got covered with snow. And I feel vulnerable sleeping down here.

Reaching a small lake by sundown I break apart the growing ice on top to reach the water, and as I drink a particular smell reaches my nostrils. A smell of blood and fur.

I turn around and search with my gaze all around me, there are many trees, a few bushes, rocks, and lumps of snow- No, that's not a lump!

As fast as possible I begin to run, and I hear the growl as the white wolf leaves his hiding spot, choosing instead to pursue. Looking back as I run along the lake I see it quickly approaching, its ragged fur making it look even bigger than before.

I can't outrun him, so I keep running until I hear him close enough and turn around with my spear in hand, the beast stops and we find ourselves in a deadly waltz, going right and left, never losing sight of the other.

He growls menacingly and snarls at me, its long fangs visible as saliva drips to the snow at our feet. It pounces back and forth as I keep it at bay with my spear as it snaps its jaws at it or tries to slap it away with its paws.

Our eyes lock for one moment, and for a moment it gives a sensation, different than anything I have ever felt before, there is a sort of kinship within us. That sort of connection you can only feel in the briefest of moments, and can't explain it, but I can feel it.

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And it must have made me lower my guard.

It hits the spear with such force, or maybe I had weakened my grasp, that it forces it away from my hands, and the beast wastes no time, jumping at me and bitting my left arm with such force I scream in agony, feeling my skin tear and bones crushed by the sheer power of its bite.

My scream is loud and echoes all around but my reflexes are too, for I snatch my dagger and dig it inside its neck, its muscles harder than I could ever imagine but I push it in forcing the wolf to let go and slash at me with its claws, piercing the tunic and cutting open my chest as it backs away.

The warmth of my blood pours out from my chest and travels down my torso, a glance at my mangled arm lets me see just how badly it injured me, I can even see the cracked bone. But there is no time to cry or freeze, I reach for my hatchet, heavier than what I'm used to with one hand but still manageable.

My enemy scratches at the dagger dug all the way to the handle inside its neck, but I failed to cut anything of significance, for while it gags and whimpers, it quickly looks directly at me, hunger no longer its only reason to wish me dead, I can see it in its eyes once again.

And I feel it too, the adrenaline, the hate, the anger, the goblin within me growls back and screams a challenge to the top of my lungs that the wolf gladly takes.

We clash, its jaw cut deep by my hatchet, and my body hit harder by its powerful paws. It jumps around for a bit trying to make me lose my focus on it and then pounces again, decided to kill me with its bite but I strike again with my hatchet.

Opening a wound on its chest as it slashes my right shoulder. With a whimper, it retreats again. The snow around us blossoms with crimson winter flowers as our blood falls from our cut-open flesh but neither of us is closer to killing the other.

If I run, he kills me, and if he runs I kill it.

The attack resumes as it jumps and runs in circles around me for a little bit longer before its paws reach for me, its claws trying to do what its jaws cannot. I slash at it with fury and even cut deep once forcing it to move back once again.

We walk in circles around each other, our eyes still locked with each other. I see myself in them and it surely sees itself in mine.

There is no greater reason to fight than simple survival, I am small and they are bigger, it was hungry and I was nearby, maybe it was even boring, and thought of me as a simple meal.

And now we are locked in this battle until one of us falls first, there is no other way around it.

It snarls once more, this time its breath hard and a whimper escapes its jaws, and I yell back at it, but my voice is coarse and uneven.

With a single jump, it tackles me to the ground, ignoring the hatchet now stuck in its eye its powerful jaws open and I see death once again from within the dark entrance of its throat. Time stops as everything I have gone through come to me once again.

No matter what life keeps forcing me to suffer, it keeps throwing me into the fire without care, what a cruel destiny that gives and that takes. Taking me away from my world and casting me to this flesh, to this cursed existence that now meets its end.

I see my mother, unwilling as she was.

I see the woman I first murdered.

I see her, Ismeina, I see her burning into charcoal because of me, because of what I am.

Maybe it's better this way.

And the beast closes its jaws, breaking bone and muscle alike as blood dirties it all, and I bite its neck, my jagged teeth sharp and hard penetrating the skin and muscle while my right arm rests within its jaws.

Constantly I have been between wishing to die and fighting to survive, and I can no longer tell where that desire comes from if it's from my goblin body or if is it my human spirit. But now I see I was wrong, I HAVE something to live for.

It is what I have always had, the memories I possess, the smile of the woman I called my friend, that give me hope and push me forward, and the horrors I've lived by my hand or otherwise, they make me who I am, and they are mine to carry, my responsibility to never forget.

With all my strength I pull and tear its flesh, a huge chunk of it, the warm blood washes my entire body as it pours with passion and the wolf finally lets go of my arm. Kicking me away and gurgling, trying to whimper as it falls to the ground, thrashing about for a few seconds before it stopped moving.

I raised to my feet, with an energy I didn't even know I had and I scream!, I yell! For I have survived.

"YOU CAN'T KILL ME!!" I scream at whatever force brought me to this world, I look at the dark sky above as the snow falls slowly all around me.

For many days I remained next to that lake, using the torn tunic to stop the bleeding from my arms and what little medicine I had managed to make to deal with my many wounds. I ate the frozen meat of the wolf, most of its organs and at some point even lived inside its carcass.

I didn't leave because wasting away the meat of this animal felt disrespectful, and I couldn't defend myself properly with both arms so badly wounded.

Besides, I learned much from it. I finally understood that eating a lot made me heal faster, which made me wonder if all goblins were like that. And also it taught me an extremely important lesson, that the way I learn is not just through seeing things, but that trance-like state where I relieve events in my memories only happens after I have survived a fight, and it's what allows me to improve greatly.

Eventually, however, the meat on the wolf ran out, and I had to move on.

Taking its mantle I wore it the best I could, it was warm and big enough to completely cover my body and head, its tail dragging on the ground.

I grabbed my spear and kept moving forward. I still didn't know where this path would lead me, and while the weight in my heart and my mind were still heavy, I now saw everything in a different light, I felt purpose.

And moving forward, even if aimlessly, is better than doing nothing.