He thought about the many times he walked on this exact path. The memories of him running out of the village gate to complete a mission. Returning home battered and bruised from that mission. And of course, the guilt when he left his village for revenge under a full moon. He reminisced how he then proceeded down a path of hatred and destruction, a path which almost resulted in the destruction of the world. He held the stub of his left arm as he remembered how he almost killed his best friend. He reminded himself that those memories will only be memories from now on. As he neared the village gate, he smiled. He was finally coming home.