Swing. Knock. Another swing. Arin wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and sighed heavily. He and Ras had been making their way through the humid jungle all day, just like they probably had for the past week. The boy hadn’t thought the jungle could be so huge. The air hung thick with moisture, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and decaying leaves. He took another swing at a thick, interfering branch, and it finally snapped with a satisfying crack.

Just like he had at some point. Something in Arin’s heart sank at the thought.

Then he felt heavy, hot breath behind him, but he didn’t turn around. Ras growled softly at him and yanked the machete out of his hands, which the boy had been chopping down plants with for almost their entire journey. The metal handle was slick with sweat in his palm.

“Weak. How many times have I told you? You should always squeeze out all your energy, especially when you’re tired. Now gather some brushwood and set up camp here.” The tiger stuck the machete into the ground, where it quivered slightly, and turned around, his tail flicking with irritation as he headed toward the forest wilderness.

Arin lay on a small bed of leaves with his back to the dying fire later that night. On the other side of the fire lay Ras, but he knew that the tiger was awake or sleeping very lightly. The crackling flames cast long shadows that danced across the trees, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.

The boy shuddered as he recalled the night he had found out about Ras's vigilance: that night he had a nightmare, from which he'd woken and decided to look for water. But as soon as Arin had left their camp... He hadn't even thought about running away then, but now he was afraid to even consider it.

Guilt washed over him again - a familiar companion that visited whenever he wasn't training. Guilt towards his parents, guilt towards the ninja, guilt towards himself for not being able to become a full-fledged ninja. If Lloyd had found a better approach, Arin would have achieved greater success and wouldn't have needed Ras's help. Now he had to step over his own moral principles. Kindness was weakness. Anger, hatred was strength. But then why did anger make him feel like the most miserable, weakest creature around?

After some time, Arin finally fell asleep, though muscle pain made itself felt even in his dreams. He woke suddenly when someone shook his shoulders roughly. His eyes opened to see a girl's tense face in front of him.

“You were mumbling in your sleep. Talking about Lloyd Garmadon, the green ninja? You know him?” she whispered, looking around cautiously.

Arin nodded. “He was my teacher... before.”

“How many students does he have?” she asked, her voice softening slightly.

“I was the first and only,” Arin lied, deciding not to mention Sora. Trust was dangerous - he'd learned that well.

The girl smiled bitterly. “He lied to you then.”

“Where did you get that from?” Arin hissed, though somewhere in his mind, a troubling puzzle was beginning to form.