Opening his eyes, Tiberius found himself in a dark forest. Standing across from him was the giant wolf known as Scourge. "I must say, this is a first," Scourge remarked thoughtfully. The old hawk was on his feet in an instant, his feathers bristling. "Why don't you go to your Tribe of Poisonous Savages?!" he hissed, his talons scraping the ground.

"Oh, I've been there!" Scourge yipped happily, adding, "And I found it very lovely."

Screeching, Tiberius lunged forward. His talons caught Scourge in the left shoulder. Surprised, the wolf whirled around and tried to strike the hawk out of the air. However, he was too slow and continued getting his back and shoulders clawed up viciously. Then Tiberius boldly went for one of Scourge's paws. Lashing out, he managed to break off one of the claws on his right paw. Scourge howled in agony. Seizing the moment, Tiberius slashed his talons across the wolf's throat before backing off, ready to attack again. But there was no need to.

Breathing heavily, Scourge slowly felt his throat. Holding up his paw, he found it stained in his own blood. "Impressive..." he mumbled truthfully, looking over at Tiberius. "Go, you've earned my respect," the wolf rasped. Huffing, Tiberius turned to leave, feeling victorious. However, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Norman behind him. Standing in a meadow, the guinea pig seemed to be calling for him. Smiling, the old hawk tried to go over but he couldn't pass over to the meadow.

"He's in the spirit world, there's nothing you can do... except..." Scourge explained, padding up behind Tiberius. The old hawk knew what he was trying to say. Lifting his head high, he murmured, "Just do it." Biting his lip, Scourge whipped out some rope. Holding the ends in his paws, he looped it around the hawk's neck. He was actually impressed by how calm his victim was with this. "I hope they remember you," he spoke, adding, "Any last words?"

"I'm ready..." Tiberius whispered, closing his eyes. Tears in his red eyes, Scourge reluctantly tugged hard on the ends of the rope. The last thing the old hawk ever heard was his own neck snapping.

Gazing down at the dead body laying before him, Scourge wept for the first time over killing someone.