Born from the ashes of his relationship with his father, drawing his siblings and those like them close to himself once more. Björn⁢ needs like-minded individuals. He needs those who won't flinch at violence, who won't shirk the call to arms. There's something brewing, something blazing in the boy. A prince of rot and bone, a harbinger of things to come. He'd bring the complacent, the lazy, the moldering slime who called themselves leadership within this place to their knees.

It's only fitting that he takes to the steps of the crypt. Another place he knows all too well, somewhere with storied history for the boy and the rest like him. Red dawn settling over the place, coloring the land around him. It's time. It's well past time to seize the day, and to set his plans in motion. Posture upright, slate gaze aflame. This is the start of the rest of their lives-- for glory, for plunder. It was time to carve their names on the worldtree, once and for all.

Tipping his head back, Björn⁢'s call is thunderous and sharp. Echoing from the mountain, and on deeper. Who would join him? Who would be by his side to put the world on notice.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Her parents were gone. She knew Indigo would have let her stay if she'd asked, but she hadn't wanted to. Didn't want to speak; she was meant to be cold and unfeeling, not above such things...but parallel, out of reach. But it hurt all the same, an ache in her chest that pained her more than the healing scar hidden beneath her thick fur. But beyond all that there was a rage she didn't quite know what to do with, felt unwieldy in her grip- like a weapon she ought to blugeon someone with. And yet, if they had killed her Father, a talented fighter no less, what chance did she stand?

Seeking out Bjorn in the darkness of the crypt, she walked slowly, mismatched eyes taking a moment to adjust.

"If I join, would you kill someone for me?"

Her attempt at "finding herself" had potentially only left her with more questions than answers, but in the end the call of her brother drew her in like a moth to a flame all the same. There had been a feeling of needing to figure out who she was outside of the shadow of her crumbling family back when things were falling apart, but blood still ran strong between them and she couldn't deny that it was good to see Björn again as she approached. She glanced to the sky as she neared the crypt, the blazing sky from the new dawn feeling both inspiring and ominous at the same time. It was an interesting mix that the superstitious young woman was pondering as she settled a couple of feet away from her brother, giving him a slight nod of acknowledgement and a smirk. Another girl had arrived before her, a tiny thing marked with a splash of purple. She didn't recognize her and she was certain that she could easily toss her off the mountain if need be, but the call was not for their family alone and she was sure there was bound to be some kind of worth she could bring to this thing her brother was trying to create.

"Rúna Trygg"

Hag had been keeping tabs on the boy since their meeting. Not stalking per se but certainly keeping an ear to the ground. He'd been the first to pique her interest since she'd left and that was motivation enough to do so. Still she largely moved at night and had been ready to settle down to sleep when the call reached her. Curious. Hag tended to move at night but that didn't mean being a little blinded and sunburnt would stop her. It was the first time she'd been under the sun in a while, and she was admittedly less used to the diminished sight.

Still Hag made her way towards the call, glad she'd travelled as much as she had. Short legs didn't exactly travel fast, even less so with limited vision. So no surprise she wasn't first to arrive, though it seemed only two wolves had beaten her. Not that Hag really cared either way. She squinted against the light of the dawn towards the shape she thought was Björn, hoping he spotted her at least before she found herself a place to settle in, not amongst the current gathering but clearly still there. Settling into her stomach and tucking her paws under herself much the way a cat would. Hag closed her eyes as she waited, glad for a moment to help them recover.

"Hag Klein"

Art by lifamevil

He couldn't help it. He always found his way back to the crypt. The potent emotion that oozed from the dust covered floor and filled the familiar darkness until it felt like a physical weight upon his flesh.. he couldn't ignore it. So when a booming call sounded from the crypt that had borne the vagabond, he answered. A hulking monolith of simmering wrath that lumbered into view with no heed for the attention he drew. Appraising the boy who stood at the foot of the mountain, lingered near the entrance to his home. He was familiar somehow, had he met the boy when his sire had lived here? It was hard to say. He hadn't paid much attention. It had been about the promise for violence that thrummed through the notes of the summons, not the one who'd promised it. It was his birthright, bloodshed. With the death of his father still weighing on his soul, he sought only to bury the emotion beneath a mountain of gore. The assembled wolves were young. Not too much younger than himself, but some of them seemed barely old enough to have left their parents. One of them was easily small enough to still be a child, his pale gold eyes lingered on the pallid figure and narrowed, one ear flicking back as he considered her. Not his problem. The aurora-painted brawler hovered near the back of the group, head carried low between broad shoulders as he considered the dark furred brute who had called for the likes of him. Amid the brightening skies of a late autumn dawn, each breath escaped as a stream of mist that wreathed his muzzle. He would wait, see what this was about. If it was interesting enough, he might stick around.

Sure, the Isle might have been the birthplace of his older siblings, but the Ravine had been all he had known, and he wasn't so keen on having to swim through crocodile and shark infested waters just to get home. The estuary had been bad enough. So, when his sisters announced their plans to leave, he took his, reassured that if he changed his mind, he would always have a place, it wasn't really that big of deal in his mind.

Sure it was odd being untethered, but there was plenty of adventure to be had. When the call went up his ears turned towards the call. This could be fun...

"speech"

Calibos had a feeling. It was an interesting little tingle in his spine. His meeting with the young wolf, Bjorn, had gone well and had left him with a pleasant aftertaste. Whatever mystical monsters spoke to Calibos in his mind, they told him to look out for this one. Things could be great if only Bjorn reached out and took his opportunity. If he took his fate into his filthy little paws. The call rang out and Cal was near. The blue brute sat in the shadows, leaning against one of the crumbled stones. There was a look of amusement on his face as wolves appeared one after another. Everything was lining up as he expected. Were they congregating as lambs to slaughter or as wolves to slaughter lambs? Bjorn would be the deciding factor in that. If he had no tether and ran rampant over the land with no care, with no heart... then things would get very, very interesting indeed. "Calibos Lir"