Sawtooth Spire Here are the holy birds

Sutekh walks this strange land and breathes its history. If this earth has known war, its wounds have long ago healed. This odyssey is as deathless as his intent. For the longest time there has seemed to be no destination other than West.

But now a shewolf has told of a pack in the nearby canyon. She speaks of a god. Sutekh wants to know Him. Perhaps this canyon is the destination. Perhaps here there are whispers.

In the seclusion of the cold mountain shadow he disappears to bathe. The spring brook is cold with snowmelt, he bristles and submerges into the chill.