King Elk Forest its official.

He loomed upon the outskirts, a gargoyle balanced on a decrepit ledge, silent beneath the festive song that wove above his head. One paw hooked around his tines while the other searched and settled on a swath of charred and unetched bone.

They had not listened then, they would not listen now. Yet these were his kin. He bore the name of the transgressors, and he carried their sin. The High Elk has spared him; and Glaedwine could not abandon those who remained.

The stalwart guardian shifted, as if breaking from stone; he let his voice carry with the chilled eastern wind to bind him with the Deorwines once more.