His hands were complitely burned and his legs hurt so bad he wondered how did he even manage to escape back into the woods. He was so lonely and so hurt that he just hid there in the darkness for days, maybe even longer without a single human- like though in his head. He wasn't aware of his origin, purpose or cause but all that kept him awake for this time in starvation and darkness were green stripes dancing in his mind. They were so calming and gracious that not even thirst or hunger could defy them. And that smell. Smell of blood and roses. In time he started feeding on small animals again and even tried to leave the woods. But every time the sun would come back too fast and he'd have to run back into the safety.
One day, a few men came to the woods. They were running from somethng, a predator, he meant. One of the men was bleeding really bad. His leg was looking like something ripped it apart. He started chasing them but something pushed him further forward. A bullet. Unaware of what was going on he just rushed again and the man in front of him stopped, pulled the gun from his pocket and said; "Du willst nie von dieses Wald raus gehen," and shot himself.
That sentence was echoing in his ears. He understood the meaning of something. He understood that sentence in german. You will never go out from these woods.
He left that place and ignored all the hell that started to get to him. He understood. In a minute he saw that sentence translated into many more languages but as the word Wald seemed more important than the other words he learned his name. His name is Waldimir.