Dawnlark Plains Why are you sitting at home on the floor?

Snow concealed the massive shape of the bear as it plodded across frigid land in search of one thing - food. 

The hunger was insatiable. 

The wind called a mordant note through sickly trees, leaves shed in the weight of winter upon them. The spindly arms stretched up to point at the sky in blame. But snow continued to fall, and the winds continued to howl across the whitened earth. And Heimsætur’s hunger was violent. 

Lifting his head, the world eater peered through the slicing snow and sleet, blinking dark eyes against the violent chill of winter. On that wind was a familiar scent - wolf. The bear increased its pace. Prey was close and his body demanded to be fed. 

Eat, eat, eat.