THE WOLVES WILL CHASE YOU IN THE PALE MOONLIGHT
Drunk and driven by a devil's hunger...
Hárekr gazed warily at the opening to the Lifeless Caverns. No doubt it was given that name for a reason and the male debated how badly he wanted to find out. The entrance to the caverns lay like an open wound on the side of the mountain. Dark and gaping…. and fascinating. It smelt strongly of clay and earth. Háre hesitated, eyes drifting to gaze at the crescent moon curving like a sickle as if it meant to harvest the stars. Such a clear and beautiful night, so why did he feel compelled to stick his nose where it most certainly didn't belong?
While the viking man stood there, contemplating his choices he turn the strangled cry of a goose. He turned to see a dark colored woman gnawing into a fresh kill. Háre licked his lips but he did not move for he was uncertain what to think of this woman and he wondered for a moment if she'd been touched by the gods. Mismatched eyes traced the shape of the cross that marked her shoulder. Most unusual. He turned back to the cave entrance then back again to the woman. Exploration was always more fun with a partner. The man moved in her direction, letting out a call. "Hola! How is the goose in this part of the country? Is it worth digging through the feathers?"
