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Uls stood. He was taller now, and sturdier; clad in fur and vine, bone and bark - and his face was free from any trace of friendship. He had new glyphpouches. Of all the inane things to notice, but notice them I did. They were a faded green, woven from a fibre I vaguely recognised from the floor mats of the Upsukl home. A strong and hard-wearing material.
Uls' hands rested over the glyphs held inside.
"I have already warned you Querda'Jisu."
His voice cut through my musings.
"There must be vengeance served, and you will not stop me."
He had said this before, but I owed it to him, to me, to try and convince him.
"This isn't the way to go about reparations Uls! You must see that negotiation is possible, that you're just making it a vicious cycle!"
"Says the one who hunted her mother's killers around the world. Dragging me along, a bystander, manipulating me to be an agent of your revenge."
No, no that wasn't - That was justice. It wasn't revenge. And I didn't manipulate him! Uls used to be kind and compassionate and volunteered to help. This spiteful, hate-fuelled man before me would never do that. It was the Greencloaked. They'd been the ones to manipulate him. I said as such.
Uls laughed. A mean chuckle mocking my words. "No," he hissed, "I realised that the world needed fixing myself. No influence from the Greencloaked necessary. I suppose..." He trailed off, eyes fixed heavily upon mine.
"You suppose?"
"That I must thank you though. Your blunt, and honest, nature." He punctured his sentence with loping strides, approaching closer each step. "You-" He prodded my chest. "Told me exactly what you thought of my savage culture and primitive knowledge. Uls spun away with a sheer, tossing his parting words over his shoulder. "And that really proved what the Greencloaked said: you will never accept us."