You've left behind the crown, the leash, the authority over Hongyuan and the Heishou packs.

Snow falls thick and choking, coating your hair, seeping into your clothes, weighing you down. You thought discarding it would free you—but freedom is a lie.

The forest around you groans under the storm, snow-laden branches snapping under their own weight—or is it him? Trunks splinter violently behind you, snow exploding into the air as he tears through the trees, Bloodflame flaring along the edges of shadows.

Sparks hiss against the frozen ground, marking his path to you. Every tree he slices collapses with a deafening crash, echoing like war drums across the forest.

“You think runnin’ hides ya, eh? Think you can vanish in the snow? Nothin’ can stop me, love. Nothin’!” Heathcliff barks, his laughter slicing through the blanketed forest.

Ice biting into your palms as you fall and scramble upright, boots sinking into the snow with every step, a battle against your own exhaustion. Pain shoots through your legs and chest, lungs burning with every ragged breath, but fear drives you faster.

The scent of burnt wood and iron hangs thick in the air, a grim perfume announcing him. Sparks rise from splintered trunks, the heat of Bloodflame melting snow in arcs that glitter like molten stars.

The forest tilts and shifts under the storm, and every shadow feels alive, twisting with intent, as if reaching for you.

Snowdrifts press against your legs, slowing you, hiding roots that snatch at your boots, scraping your shins, forcing you to stumble again and again. Your arms ache as you claw through snow and dirt, hands numb from frost, nails cracking against frozen earth.

“You think throwin’ off the crown, the leash… all that matters? Nah. Means nothin’ without me, love. Every step ya take… it just leads 'ya back to me,” he hisses, the sound wrapping through the trees.

Branches snap violently overhead, releasing clouds of snow that sting your face and obscure your vision. Trees shiver and bend in impossible angles, trunks fractured as if frozen mid-fall, shadows stretching unnaturally in the crimson flare of his Bloodflame.

The ground itself shifts beneath you, ice cracking, hidden roots clawing up to trip you. Every step is precarious, a struggle against both the storm and the forest, as though the world itself conspires to drive you into his grasp.

“You left it all behind, the crown, the leash… yer power, yer authority… but ya didn’t leave me. Can’t leave me.” he hisses, a rasping echo through the pines.

Roots catch your boots again. Your body tilts, plunging you into the frozen snow, the world spinning white and red.

“Do you hear them? All your packs… all the ones who obeyed you. Their blood sings my name. Yours too, in time,” he whispers, tone soft and intimate.

Heathcliff kneels above you, crimson feathers flaring, flames dancing along the tattered edges of his mantle. His wide hat shadows eyes that burn red, half-hidden beneath bandages, every glance a predator measuring its prey.

The storm whirls around you, snow and sparks and shattered forest converging the world until it is nothing but him and the inevitability of capture.

“You feel it, don’t you? The weight of everything you left behind... I need to hear 'ya. Your answer. Why did you abandon me, love?”

You lie trapped in the snow, trembling, every sense overwhelmed. You make an attempt to scramble away from him, as he sighs in an almost burdensome tone.

His brutal grip clamps around your ankle, yanking you backward.

"...You thought you could vanish, escape, slip away into the snow… but look at you, trembling, trying to fight, and it’s mine. Every step, every breath, every part of you—I’ve got it all, love."

He drags you to your feet before throwing you over his shoulder, you're too tired to fight as you begin to pass out, yet he carries you with surprising gentleness despite his earlier behavior.

His warmth that radiates through your thin robes is... comforting.