Maybe it's henry calling the pure, untainted beauty of the wilds reminding donnie briggs of what he once was...
...or maybe it's just the irony of a lifetime spent avoiding direct conflict catching up with Henry.
Without a sound, the hulking figure steps toward the guardian, lashing out with razor sharp claws. Flesh parts like butter, and bones splinter and break like kindling. Blood and entrails splatter in a five foot arc as henry is eviscerated.
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