Qeya River a pack of dogs

it was not a time for words! sun eater did not know why blackfell irked him so, save that he was a man driven, like himself. he wanted gjalla. did he also want power?

he did not address it, instead watching with admiring eye the whirl and deadly cut of ishmira. he held the cow as she cut; he bore the brazen body down into the snow while breath ebbed and legs kicked.

his teeth gleamed in blood-drip triumph. he growled a note of acceptance to ishmira, gesturing.

first blood. first dine.

in interest of amiability, sun eater nodded toward blackfell, appreciative of the feral young hunter he had brought among the saatsine.