The last thing he remembered was how manic he was, how glad he was to had gotten a killing bite on the Kingpin. And then the fire, the hot, searing, tormenting fire that engulfed him. And he wasn't mad, or upset, or wanting to slaughter the Kingpin out of malice. As the fire burned him alive, the Sentinel felt impressed. The guy was actually able to pull it off, even if it was supposedly out of self defense. The Madman got his wish, he got a good fight, and was almost ready to leave the mortal realm. Almost.

The plane he had opened his eyes to see was grassy and sunny. A warm breeze danced around him, soothing the still-stinging pain from his death. There was nothing for miles around, not a tree, not a rock, just lush green grass sweeping over hills and valleys. If this was heaven, it was fucking boring. "Where's the fire, where's the brimstone? Where's the fucking torture?" He asked into the air, expecting nothing and getting nothing. He wasn't deserving of something like this, he knew that. He wasn't a narcissist. He knew he was deserving torture and damnation.

"Little man?" The voice made him turn around. Red eyes met amber ones, and he took in who he was seeing. The strong-bodied wolf looked at him, clearly shocked but not angry. "Dad..?" Josiah blinked. "I'm definitely not in the right place." He shook his head. His father tilted his head. "No, you are. Everyone's been wanting to see you." And just like that, his family was there. His mother, uncle, grandparents. His grandfather, grizzled and grey and smiling, nodded his head. Josiah snarled.

"We've all been waiting. Welcome home." The old man flicked an ear. Josiah shook his head, snarling again. "This isn't my fucking home, you know that! My home is down there, on that lousy thing of dirt, and even further beneath it! This was never my home." He barked, eyes narrowing. And when the older wolf tried to speak, Josiah, in his anger, lunged. Like he had done once before, when he killed the senile old man.

The world around him changed almost instantly, and as he dug his teeth into the other's neck, he saw the blue skies become grey, and the grass become dull. And suddenly, 'poof', he was on the island again. The neutral lands. The scent of ash stuck to him, but he started to walk. And eventually, his thoughts returned. Was he really living again? No. He didn't feel connected to the ground. And his thoughts felt so far. The Covenant, The Coalition. The other groups.

Red eyes spotted movement between grasses, and the spectre weaved his way toward it. A cat. A mostly hairless, rather ugly cat. Sort of looked like him. It looked to be hunting something, a rat, bird, mole, something. He watched it, stopping only when it looked toward him. But it didn't look at him. It simply looked back at it's meal. Huh.

He whistled, blinking when the cat didn't react. So he was still dead-ish. That was... interesting. Well, no time like the present to try things. The wolf-spirit closed his eyes and relaxed, noticing how his weight had been reduced and he seemed to had gotten smaller. And as he opened his eyes, he was, in fact, small. Cat-sized. He looked at his hairless paws. Huh.

"Well, shit." he hummed, wincing as pain echoed across his body. Was he still feeling the effects of his death? Hopefully that didn't haunt him for life. Ignoring whatever the cat was going to catch, Josiah started to walk toward a woodland. Where was the Covenant's territory?