With a grunt, Gribble pushed himself upright. His body ached fiercely, but it was a good ache. An ache of defiance, of survival. Gritting his teeth, Gribble forced his legs to carry him deeper into the welcoming gloom of the forest. 

This was just the beginning, he knew. The start of a new chapter, a new life. One filled with danger and uncertainty, yes, but also with promise. With potential. 

For he was Gribble, the flying runt. Gribble, the survivor. And no matter what the future held, no matter what challenges he faced, he would meet them head on. With his power thrumming in his veins and his wits as sharp as a flint, he would not just survive, but thrive.

And someday, when he was strong enough, cunning enough, he would return. He would face Grimrock and all the rest, and he would show them what true power looked like.

That thought warmed Gribble from the inside out as he limped through the forest. It was a small flame, guttering and weak, but it was there. A spark of hope, of determination. 

It would be enough. It would have to be.

With a small, fierce smile, Gribble turned his face to the depths of the Wild Woods and pressed on into the unknown.