He grew in stature, and he slowly grew in charisma. Bray Wyatt, the quiet boy, prone to walking the woods alone, or sitting in his room, thinking, had suddenly changed. Perhaps it was due to growing up. Now seventeen, he walked tall amongst his brothers, even if he didn't match them all in height. They deferred to him. He, and his devoted brothers that walked always with him, Luke and Erick. At night, around a campfire deep in the wood, he would address his band of brothers.
"Sister Abigail is so right. You know, this world? It's full of sheep. Sheep need a shepherd. I feel the call to take up this mantle. Do you feel it, too? Brothers, we are here for a reason. This world will give us no succor. The wolves of the world will gnaw at us. Only we can free them all. Be always a sheep, but in the guise of a wolf. Walk amongst them, but never truly as one of them."
Bray found it completely on accident one night. It was one of those nights he tossed and turned in his bed, fevered from dreams of slaughterhouses, and of long, red hair. He had to walk. He had to seek out his usual comfort in the trees, and in the wild. He silently crept out of the compound, and into the darkness, not having any particular spot in mind to go to. He knew these lands, and claimed them as his very own. Savage, primitive, and deep. His steps did not falter as he dove into the brush. His mind wandered, though, further afield than his body was. His mouth tasted metallic. He had bit his tongue while dreaming of slaughter. They were all sheep he had dreamed about. Sheep being torn to shreds. He was helpless to stop it, and the blood poured over him until all he could see was red. Then the blood turned into veils of crimson streaming in the wind. The veils had darkened, and had started to separate into fibrous strands. Soon all was flowing, auburn hair, and his hands ran through it, and it had power in it. His hands now were flush with the energy, and he could save every sheep. He could do it! He had awoken, then, a dribble of blood from his bit tongue running down his chin, into his young beard.
He felt like he had walked for hours, but a look at the stars proved otherwise. Time was running differently out here in these savage lands. Looking around, he was almost amused that he was somewhere he did not know, or at least could not remember. It struck him as odd, but he could easily find his way back home. It was then he heard a quiet voice from inside a thicket of trees. He knew that voice, and at once his heart ran cold with fear, but he was curious. His curiosity must have won, for his feet were already propelling him in the direction of the voice. A soft voice. The voice stopped the moment he started climbing through the copse, with all the racket he made.
"Bray, baby?" asked the unmistakable voice of Sister Abigail. She could tell it was him before she could even see him, or before he could answer. She knelt in a completely empty circle in the midst of the trees, and the energies there almost knocked him off his feet, yet he stood as steadfast as possible.
"Sister Abigail? What's going on?" Bray questioned in a voice that became very young again. He saw she was wearing her old nun's habit, and dress. Perhaps she just missed the church?
"I am no longer a nun in word, but in deed, always. I have a gift I need to give to the world, Bray. I will give the world its redeemer. It's been promised a new savior, baby. Do you understand?" Bray stood there, unsure of what she spoke about. Maybe he was dreaming still? He stammered a response, neither yes or no, and full of questions. Sister Abigail chuckled. "Bray? It's time to meet your fate, and your place in this world."
He had found himself at that spot, closer to the house than he imagined by some sort of magic, time and time again, nights in a row, listening to the teachings of Sister Abigail. What he learned he would never speak of to another human being, but he himself had been chosen to spread a new word. The first thing to do was to get his brothers to follow him. They didn't have much time.
Ruby saw this change in Bray. It all started after he had punched that boy in the face. She was left alone, lest they all meet his fists. It was that, and just growing confidence. One day, though, the change became even more significant. All these years later, she was seeing him being around his brothers, talking to them, and bringing them into his confidence. In particular, the tall, dark haired Luke Harper, who came to them just a year after Ruby arrived, but was the second oldest in the compound. Also the giant, red headed Erick Rowan, who had been there since a small child. Those two bonded to Bray, and seemed to never leave his side. Alas, Ruby was still an outsider in his world, and never talked to him much at all. She would spend her days helping the younger boys with chores, and help Abby with her chores. Sister Abigail seemed so much more tired lately to Ruby. She didn't bring it up as to not offend her. Grace at the table kept falling to Ruby, which she didn't mind. It was one of the few times she felt a connection to any of them, especially Bray. At night, she would pray for him, hands against his wall as usual, but not realizing he wasn't there. He would be at that place, in the copse, learning. Growing.
