Horizon Ridge i do like to be beside the seaside

Fair. Had Shar-Kali been fair? Mostly, yes, but she held certain convictions that she would not budge on, and what Björn spoke so earnestly of now ranked highest on that list. "There are wolves who will do anything for an idea," the grim alpha had told her fourth litter as broken body of their fanatic aunt disappeared downriver. "Think on that." And Bazi had thought hard then as she did now, on the Vikings' claim to ruthlessness and murder and rape. What separated Zimri - whose single succumbing to the weakness of his gender cost him everything, despite his previous good credit - from someone that deserved a spot in a wondrous, heavenly hall? The dark smudge on her memory of the more war-like of the twins was larger than the memory itself - he had done something unforgivable, and even as a pup that had flicked a switch in her that had since rusted into position. The Creek wolf regarded her greeter quietly as she polished off the salty morsel he had offered her. She wanted to quiz him, to find out how far he would go for his ideas, what he would do. At what point would the scale tip in favour of earthly concerns? Where was the line? And was a wolf that believed in Valhalla better - or worse - than a wolf that believed in nothing except the certainty that the sun would rise? "Would you do anything?" She asked suddenly, bluntly.