Hob Kin
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In honesty, he was struggling with his return to the world of Men, trading strong bonds and fellowship for the sterile existence of urban living. Save his unknowing mother, few neighbors spoke to him, providing only nods and the occasional smile in some weak attempt at building communal identity, but, end of the day, Bugul knew he didn't have a pack. Not like before and without that, well, what was the point of living?
So Bugul went back to the camp, spending most of his day there and retreating to his hidden Hollow by night. Even the Hobs who occasionally slept within it were proving better company than Men. It had gone like this for the past few weeks, with the Goatman only returning to his condo to handle financials and utilities or to get the truck for a days work in gardening and landscaping.
It felt good.
At least until he had come one day to see Marcus, an old friend, and spotted the black of one of his eyes. Then he saw the bruises.
Before Marcus could explain them, Bugul heard a great commotion and looked to see a giant of a man arguing with Dwight, who was often seen as the camp's leader. The giant's name was James and had been drinking and boasting of how the people in the camp should follow him because he was 'more of a man' than Dwight. Dwight let things slide until James propositioned his lover Sherry and got aggressive when she rejected his advances. Thus, Dwight confronted him, things heated up, and soon the pair came to blows.
Dwight was a smart man, but he had never been a man of strength and often when it came to such things others came to aid him, but the sight of James' fury had frozen many of them. Among them Bugul. Bugul could not help, but watch in terror at the fight by Dwight's tent. The sound of pummeled flesh resounded heavily.
"Enough," Bugul finally managed, though his voice was weak and trembled with his fear.
failure
For his trouble, James descended on the Goatman himself.
"The fuck you say?" he sneered, his words drunkenly fumbling from his mouth, "You don't even live here, shitstick."
Then the man swung a meaty fist and hit Bugul in the stomach before shoving him down on the ground.
"Stay out of my business, asshole," James uttered. He tried to kick Bugul while he was down, but, in his drunken state, he did not connect. Settling for kicking dirt upon him, James turned his attention back to the felled Dwight and noticed that, during his fighting, Sherry had gotten away.
"I'll be back tomorrow to see Sherry," he growled, "She better be here, otherwise I'm coming for blood."
The camp was silent for much of the night thereafter and Bugul decided to go home and rest in the condo for the night, but he could not sleep and found himself troubled by the inaction he had had while seeing a good friend be beaten. The rage built in him before he finally let out his wrath while in his bathroom, shattering his mirror with his fist.
"I should of done something," he bellowed.
"You should have," echoed the one of the Thousand, peering through one of the glass shards to the embattled Beast, "Your time among Men has made you soft."
"I can't kill 'im," Bugul uttered, "This isn't Arcadia. And the place is smaller than Denver. Word would get around and I am afraid, great teacher"
"You need not to," said another voice of his guide "Make him feel as you do and you will find this lion is truly a sheep."
"How?" he asked.
"Seek the fury you once possessed and all will be made clear, but know it is not Wrath that will save you," rang a third, "It is Fear."
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