Instead of satisfying him, Vagus's meeting with the Great Tree only made his discontent more apparent. And just as the Great Tree had warned, the bell grew louder and more insistent. Exactly one week later, Vagus decided to leave. He wasn't entirely sure what his purpose with this venture was, but he knew he needed to understand what was happening to him. He needed to learn about the dream, the bell, and now, to find the end of the world. And in a less specific way, he had to admit that he was no longer content. The thought of an entire life spent within the walls of his village, the very same idea that gave his neighbors such comfort, quietly horrified him. So it wasn't with a sense of adventure that he made his decision, but one of acceptance. His only question was how to say goodbye. He loved the people of Hidden Hollow. They were good-hearted, and their embrace of tradition and simplicity made them easy company. But because he couldn't share in it, it also kept him at arm's length. He often felt as though he were watching life through a window, outside in the elements while everyone he knew was indoors, warming themselves near some shared fire he could only observe and never experience. He'd spent a long time trying to find his way into that room, but for all his attempts to fit in, he'd never found the key. Vagus wished to explain his departure in person, but knew that words would fail him. Shyness would crawl into his throat, only permitting inadequate phrases to pass. So he decided to express himself in a letter which he would pin to his door. And he would steal away in the middle of the night before anyone was awake to talk him out of it.🏁

Instead of satisfying him, Vagus's meeting with the Great Tree only made his discontent more apparent. And just as the Great Tree had warned, the bell grew louder and more insistent. Exactly one week later, Vagus decided to leave. He wasn't entirely sure what his purpose with this venture was, but he knew he needed to understand what was happening to him. He needed to learn about the dream, the bell, and now, to find the end of the world. And in a less specific way, he had to admit that he was no longer content. The thought of an entire life spent within the walls of his village, the very same idea that gave his neighbors such comfort, quietly horrified him. So it wasn't with a sense of adventure that he made his decision, but one of acceptance. His only question was how to say goodbye. He loved the people of Hidden Hollow. They were good-hearted, and their embrace of tradition and simplicity made them easy company. But because he couldn't share in it, it also kept him at arm's length. He often felt as though he were watching life through a window, outside in the elements while everyone he knew was indoors, warming themselves near some shared fire he could only observe and never experience. He'd spent a long time trying to find his way into that room, but for all his attempts to fit in, he'd never found the key. Vagus wished to explain his departure in person, but knew that words would fail him. Shyness would crawl into his throat, only permitting inadequate phrases to pass. So he decided to express himself in a letter which he would pin to his door. And he would steal away in the middle of the night before anyone was awake to talk him out of it.🏁