Duskfire Glacier [m] Oomemē

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she commanded wolves. rainwater sang to this wolf of everwinter. he was seated upon a throne surrounded by flowers, springtime zeal in ardent veins; he was a jarl of patience, so he said unto himself.

a finer vintage could not have been wrought by the gods, and skorpa glut himself until near drunken, and that needful bouquet swirled about all his senses until he was made near a priest by his reverence of her femininity and her wildness held there by his heavy grasp.

ayovi was incense for a silvered altar. when skorpa could bear his own dalliance no longer, the man joined them more gently than his bulk might compel, feeling as if her burn might melt the glacier down around both their addled heads.

there were far worse ways to die. but to die now meant he would not end in Valhalla, not with weapon fit neatly to scabbard and unsullied by skirmish. the gods would tease! but skorpa did not dare to do so any longer. all conscious thought now galloped away; he was the beast for which she had called and he reveled in their mingled natures.

she commanded wolves, and he took them into a cadence fit for horsemen upon a high ridge.

to war; to battle of a sweeter kind.

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