Nocturne Summit Tis a far cry from home for a poor lonely thing

Tagg nodded his head swiftly at the prompted speculation.

Kynareth was smart to infer as much about the mighty Kojall. Disappointment and anger dwelled just beneath the surface of the mountain.

Fury, righteous and hot like magma, grew inside of Kojall and he bristled at his brother.

How can you stand so calmly and refuse me? Are we not kin? Are we not brothers, Ipnos? He demanded of his sibling.

Ipnos regarded him carefully. It did not appear that he wished to engage in battle. He was calm, cold, even indifferent to the invitation. Ipnos did not seek to rule. He lacked much of the desire for power required to lead others of his kind. Ipnos knew his brother well, however, and had seen the mountain shift over a great many years.

The Taggerung gathered his breath.

Kojall was proud. He did not like that Ipnos would behave this way. It was dishonorable, unjust, and felt like a betrayal, the bard went on to say, feeling the weight of the events that would follow, Kojall warned Ipnos.

If you should not join us, then you are no longer one of us, the great mountain spoke in words that became law once they had left his tongue.

It was here that the Taggerung found a more comfortable position. He seated himself carefully, paws placed together. His posture was polite and friendly. The rest of the story had always carried with it a great deal of information for growing pups. This was how their world had come to be how it was. These events had created all wolves of the earth, great and small.

Kojall left the seaside. Enokhe and Aellar returned to their domains. Kojall carried his fury with him to the mountainside where he contemplated the treachery of his blood and bone, his only brother.

Unable to help himself, Tagg thought of Rhulain for a moment. Of his sister Mossflower too. He hoped that they were well.

Now what you must understand is that Kojall did not act immediately. It took many years for the mountain to determine what he must do, whether he could reason with Ipnos. Three years passed after their initial meeting. Kojall united the mountains with the seas and the skies above. He had made a kingdom of indomitable force and power.

A trickster’s smile was woven on the Taggerung’s snout.

Ipnos had spent those three years in a different way.

There is magic in the world. Magic beyond what we are capable of understanding. In the time of the great wolves, that magic was far more potent and existed in even the smallest living creatures. Ipnos had been learning the ways of the enchanters, the great magical beings. He studied beneath the wise eye of the Moon Owl, who urged him to be careful with the powers he had studied, to respect the unknown in the world.

Kojall did not need magic. He had his brawn. He had the alliances he had forged with his sisters, and he had the power to overcome anything that stood in his way, or so he believed.

Once more, the storyteller looked to his audience to gauge his interest.