Bishop.
Pelt of slate. He lowered his head in reverent prayer by the desolate sea. The wind carried its whispered supplications, and the waves responded with a haunting symphony.
"Great sea, keeper of secrets," the wolf intoned, voice deep and resonant. "Grant me the wisdom to navigate the shadows that lurk within the tides of fate."
"Great sea, keeper of secrets," the wolf intoned, voice deep and resonant. "Grant me the wisdom to navigate the shadows that lurk within the tides of fate."
He prayed.
He prayed.
He prayed.
"May Heda find life in her children. Oh, Heda," he hurt. For her pains, he felt them burn. Disarray for Heda. Her husband, their Caracal, gone. Judah, gone.
Mercy.
Mercy.
But the day would march on. He set out soon after, searching for a meal for Malakai.
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