Sir this is a Wendi's
9 hours ago
(This post was last modified: 9 hours ago by Wendigo. Edited 1 time in total.)
Wendigo was in a much better mood as he meandered through - right through - the border of some dinky southern pack, stopping only when he was several feet past the border. Well, why wouldn't he be in a better mood? Having made the decision to get on with things, to start pushing envelopes and buttons and getting known, he felt more himself inside his shiny, lovely skin. Of course he'd picked this pack at random, knowing nothing at all about it, and that's how he'd pick the next too, and the next and the next, until he'd worked his way through every pack on both continents or been captured, whichever happened to come first.
And then the real work would start.
But for now... the harassment phase, and it would start out here with this podunk town he'd never heard of. Cool.
Humming to himself, he systematically began to mark a new "border" inside the real border. A Wendigo-border, a metaphorical line in the sand, then flopped down inside this new "territory" - we'll call it Wendigo-land - and waited, casually cleaning and sharpening the metal claws on his forepaws.
And then the real work would start.
But for now... the harassment phase, and it would start out here with this podunk town he'd never heard of. Cool.
Humming to himself, he systematically began to mark a new "border" inside the real border. A Wendigo-border, a metaphorical line in the sand, then flopped down inside this new "territory" - we'll call it Wendigo-land - and waited, casually cleaning and sharpening the metal claws on his forepaws.