Champagne Cocaine Gasoline
Winter had come and the scarred man had adjusted accordingly. The plain where The Crew had celebrated less than a month ago with perfect strangers was now blanketed in white. The festivities had at least eased his mind considerably and to him, marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life. He patrolled the Steppe, leaving huge pawprints behind in the wrist deep snow and shaking out his long wavy fur as snowflakes piled on his back. He had shared his story of The Great Brown Bastard but had been careful enough to avoid mentioning his life before landing on Boreas. Or he hoped he had anyway. The entire festival was something of a blur and all he could really remember was waking up on a ledge several feet below his den with a very perturbed raccoon locked in his arms and the worst hangover of his life.
If he had shared anything, no one had brought it up since, but he had only just recuperated from the festival enough to leave his den today. He wondered if there would be stragglers he would need to chase off and if there were he hoped none of them were as big as the pregnant female he vaguely remembered who seemed to boast about antagonizing Valdis. He was still adjusting really, in Resia he had been one of the largest wolves on the landmass, now he was in a place where pups the size of foxes seemed to pop out fresh from the womb. That reminded him of how Isis used to poke fun at him for his size but he refused to acknowledge it. He had learned that was what worked best. A great puff of visible air left his maw as he sighed, marking one of the large stones outside of the mysterious stone ring, his ear twitching as he looked at the remains. He wondered if they could use it for hunting, to accumulate a veritable feast once the next festival started. They could run a herd into it and slaughter whatever was too stupid or weak to jump over the eerily precise square bricks that it was made of. He sneezed and shook out his fur. That was dumb, and Artemis had probably already thought of it anyway. "Batter ya keep yer dumb cunt ideas in yer head whar naewan else keen hear them." He father had said. His father may have been a "Right bastard" but that particular pear of wisdom had stuck with him snce his puphood.
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