Dragoncrest Cliffs intricate cities built from the slag of a bulldozed anatomy

While Eske muses on how the death would be if someone had been crushed to death, Thuringwethil feels a tingle down her spine. Just thinking about the story she has in mind is enough to give her chills, but the physical pain from one of these beasts makes everything feel worse. It takes a little effort to get rid of the thoughts and feel comfortable again. She shakes out her fur and circles back around until she’s facing Eske once more, asked about the wolf that had been struck.

“He’d become Heda by surviving the Sadgeda. Spent his whole life training as a fos goufa, as I did. Longer than I did, actually,” she muses. She’d been young when she’d taken the throne. About Eske’s age. Her ears twitch thoughtfully on her head. “He isn’t Heda long when he’s struck by lightning. Most wolves will tell you that he died instantly but there are a few that think he survived for a few hours after, until he threw himself off one of the cliffs to the ocean because it drove him mad.” A brow perks upon her features as she does not shy away from the details of the few. “The counsellors did a little digging for information because they knew who his family was and they discovered he had not been a fos goufa at all. They’d lied to the council that he’d been their only child when there had been a stillborn among the litter,” she explains with a twist of her lips. “We think the former commanders had summoned the shy to do their bidding that day.”