Ouroboros Spine deity forged architecture

Sitri heard the thunder, and he looked down, mumbling to himself. The voices in his head cackling with glee. It had been hard, and disheartening, but they had come back. They were there, like a tooth ache, never leaving. Over and over again, their voices reached and rolled through his head. death, and death, and hate and  hate and live and live. He had tried to let himself die, he had not eaten for days, but he had gotten bored. So here, he was looking about him, once again a stranger in a land he coveted.

There was a new leader, a new face for him to follow. To say he was unhappy about it would be a lie. He supposed if it got down to it, he could kill her just as he had with Ptarmigan. However, when Ptar had been here, she did not have loyal wolves already. This one she did, and he knew the first moment he even went after her, he would be accosted on all sides. Besides, he wasn't really a fan of killing, much rather preferring to just exist. However, Sitri would not be forced into submission either, perhaps he would show the proper respect sure, maybe he would even do something if she asked. But he was not about to play a slave anymore. He was tired of that life, tired of that world. You earned this son of medicine man. all the voices would say.