So many years have gone past since Zosk went into self imposed exile. The once former boy had grown into a young man. A man that unknowing to him became a legend of the forest. Due to his feathered wings that had grown from his backside. The root cause of his exile he had traveled about the forest for years. Never staying in one area for too long. Anytime hunters would start to become frequent he would leave.
Zosk did his best to remain out of sight any human. Knowing full well what could happen if he was spotted. Just like in the village where life was once good for him, they would have done unthinkable horrors to him. He would shudder at the thought of being burned at the stake and being claimed a demon. He could be tortured, his wings could have been a disease and the way to stop a disease from spreading was to cut off where the source of it would be. The pain would be unimaginable, while those claim it’s better to be in hours of pain than a lifetime of suffering.