Carnival Of Rust
A long, deep howl broke through the arid lands, calling for someone, someone very specific, beckoning them and only them to find him. He refused to let his children grow without a father, especially not healthy, strong, pups that came from parents with a hunger for flesh and a thirst for blood. They would raise hellions together, his children would be loved and feared, and all would bow before them. He howled again, not out of impatience, but rather calling an audience to follow his golden iron maiden. Allowing them to witness their reunion, and welcome their new packmate. Isardis may have done the legwork for him, may have done everything he wished he had done, but Isardis only carried himself, the zealots that followed him were incidental. That would not stand, not as long as he needed an army to avenge his wounded pride. |