Amon, The lowest tier disciple in the Insanity Sect

The next morning, I trudged back into the sect, my "great escape" a complete failure. I'd barely made it past the entrance when I saw Elder Hurky, standing there with his arms crossed, wearing the kind of disappointed expression that could crush a person's soul.

"Out for a morning stroll, Amon?" he asked, his tone far too casual.

I froze. "I wasn't… uh… escaping?" I said, immediately regretting it.

Elder Hurky raised an eyebrow. "Mm-hmm. Sure. You think I didn't notice you sneaking out last night?"

I sheepishly scratched my head. "Maybe I… just needed some fresh air?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "You're something else, Amon. You couldn't even last one night outside the sect without running back."

I winced. "In my defense, there was a spirit wolf."

"A spirit wolf?" Elder Hurky chuckled. "That's what sent you running?"

I nodded, trying to look serious. "Yeah, it was, uh, big. And it had glowing red eyes. Very intimidating."

He laughed harder. "Alright, alright. You can't run away from your problems, Amon. You're stuck with us."

Great. I was officially the sect's resident joke. Again.