To the Traitor of the Traverse

[Dazzer]

Not much time had passed, until finally papers of their own. Delivered through couriers and mercenaries a like, all bore a simple statement for the little Jagtooth.

Mel, Mel, Mel.

Jagtooth.

Must I remind you.
The Traverse is Dead.
Syne is Dead.
To be a traitor of something which does not exist does not instil the fear, nor sheer dismay which you believe it does.
Nothing has been taken from you, Jagtooth.
It was gifted unto me from the one of which it belonged. Truly belonged, Jasper.
Gifted with a goal, a target to achieve with it. One I cannot allow you to squander, not of mine greatest friend.
Yet, you behave like this. Making my promise harder and harder to uphold unto him.

To take care of you, Mel.
I refuse your attempted ambush, and your declaration off hatred and aggression towards me.
I will not surrender what it is you seek, nor shall I meet you upon those plains you desire so much.
This is me taking care of you, Jagtooth.
Do not hunt me, for my promise is now fulfilled.