Haunted Wood They say flowers can open new paths

Ah, so the dog spoke of Gods.

Shiranui drew his ears forward to listen. He had not heard of a beast who worshipped one God. The white wolf had heard the tales of the great celestial creatures. When he had been young, they had been the only stories to have followed him from his village. Gods were curious things with curious powers.

The white wolf lowered his head. He sniffed at the ground beneath them.

Everything had been created in the image of this beast’s God. Even they were fashioned in his image, or so it seemed from the man’s words. Shiranui regarded him shrewdly. How had such a man found himself in the wilds?

The pale figure drew closer to the figure, sniffing at what could be reached.