Funeral Derangements

Zagan heard the snarling before he could locate its source, the ominous sound echoing through the sparse pine trees, sending a visceral surge of adrenaline through his veins. His raven companion was already in the sky, flying above the unfolding fight between Dracun and the coyotes, before soaring back down to Zagan. Pack of coyotes. Surrounding Dracun. Danger! Danger! His raven croaked, warning the young Saxe. But it was not enough to keep him at bay. Now that Zagan was a bit older, stronger, and slowly becoming a more perverse creature. He was starting to crave bloodshed, just like his Father.

Tearing through the trees, Zagan lopes across the terrain with frantic energy, driven by unyielding determination. He wanted to fight too. He emerges from the trees, his eyes shimmering with a predatory, feverish gleam, burning with hunger and eyeing his opponents as he joined Dracun’s side. His panther was close behind them, ready to engage in the battle too.

For now, Zagan didn’t say anything to Dracun- his arrival was his declaration of support. The two of them could take the pack on, especially if his panther helped. But perhaps more wolves would join them in the fight.


"Zagan Saxe"