thief's guild

He walked toward the man’s call like a man about to be executed, with his head low and his eyes wide. Even his spry companion had taken to lying flat on the wolf’s back, seeking to hide herself in the long hairs between his shoulders.

He stood at the foot of the knoll and for once felt acutely aware of the resemblance between himself and his father. His father had loved Chaos as a gallant knight loves a benevolent king but Rogdar had to wonder if the man felt the same way, or if his father, in spite of his efforts, had simply been fodder that could be used and disposed of without pretense.

“You called?” He spoke, his eyes carefully avoiding the fanged wolf’s mismatched gaze.