He slams the metal against the wood again, ignoring the shakes that pulse through his arms with every hit against the bark. He whispers apologies to the Tree every time, can’t help but feel guilty for causing the wood so much dented splintering.
He pauses for a moment, looks at both the chain that keeps him trapped and the branch that still holds strong despite his best attempts. Nothing has changed and he glances towards the suppression bands that trap his wrists. His stomach flips hard as he notes the skin under the bands already starting to turn black. Stained wrists, reaching over his palms and slight onto his arms.
His Magicks, just as desperate as he is, are trying to break the bands and let themselves loose on the chains.
He wishes they had just left him without the bands. It might have meant a shorter fate, his Magicks attracting the Monsters, but that would have been better than the Corruption that awaits him if he doesn’t get them off in time. He shakes the chains again, tries to think through another avenue of escape, calming himself down enough to listen.
But then something snaps in the Forest and the noise drives him right back into slamming the metal into the bark with more desperation. He can almost hear shrieks of the Witches, can almost feel everything around him dying off into withered decay.
Can almost feel his body twisting and turning until he is one of the Monsters to roam the Forest.
He chokes on tears as he hears more sounds, more rustling, and he yanks on the chains harder and harder, barely noting the skin and bone breaking from the manacles that keep his hands locked together with no give. He curses, begs for the Three for forgiveness, whispers melting into nonsensical words before he notes a louder snap just behind him, his blood running cold as he stills. It’s a poor attempt to think that the Witch wouldn’t notice him and he just closes his eyes, choking on his sobs as he readies for his Death.
And then something touches him.
