collect call

As always, the air smells like blood. Bylgja licks her snout. Her jaw clicks and she glances about, drawing her axe with a practiced movement and giving the weapon a spin. The runes carved in the axehead now glitter blue, dyed thoroughly and stained to shine. Perfect.

With a low noise, Bylgja puts the axe away. Not all wolves have axes, after all. They're missing out, but that can't be helped. It's not her fault.

Paws dig into the dirt of the battlefield.... and then Bylgja bellows her challenge, letting the call carry loud and strong.