Greatwater Lake Vann

Maybe if their circumstances were different, the two wolves could have been friends. Instead, the Svartravn man had looked down on her for the blemish of white that traced her undercarriage. It did not matter what she might accomplish in her life. It did not matter how hot the fire was, what she burned down, or whether she found herself at all. The black raven had said that the pale-furred ones were unworthy and so Jörmungandr did, too.

Her words were met with a single flick of his dark ear. The one-eyed wolf nodded his head, but he did not say anything more to the woman. The dark of the wild called to him. He would need to find a place for himself. There was no time to be troubled by the hardships of those who were less worthy.

Jörmungandr departed the scene, no different than how he had arrived.