AN : After a long absence… I'm back! Thanks to the wonderful people who review! :)


Tristan was a hard man.

The people he had loved or appreciated at one point in his life were quite scarce. There were Arthur and his brothers-in-arms, he assumed (although he would never admit it out loud) and, most of all, his father.

His father, so wise and so proud, who had seldom spoken, and whose words had been drunk by his loving son…

His father's last words sometimes haunted him. 'Remember' his father had said, before the Romans had taken Tristan away… Remember who he was, remember where he came from…

Nonetheless, there were times when Tristan forgot. There were times when he even forgot he was a man

Sometimes, when he was alone with his hawk and his horse, the call of the hunt sang in his blood. Then, he became one with the forest, one with his mount, one with his prey; and he forgot everything that wasn't his prey's fearful eyes, the rustling leaves, or the shrill warning of his hawk. He became a wolf driven by a thirst for blood.

Fortunately, the man eventually always came back…

But Tristan was afraid. Afraid to lose himself, afraid not to remember.