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Description

Dettlaff's Grief | The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQwEXm…

Many things had changed in the last year in his life. The loss of his birth ‘pack’, though by actual meaning it was a mass gathering of wolves that shared one identical ideal. The loss of his daughter haunted him, clinging onto the hope that she had just disappeared.. taken to safety by another scattered member of that community. Then he found Vektren, the pack were plagued by the white ghosts like all that lived in these lands. Their very presence caused his blood to boil, and his patience to grow thin.
They needed to be eradicated, before the lives of the Vektreni were claimed.

A low humming bubbled from Arawn, as he sat alone pondering. The tone was gruff, even as a hum the pitch of his voice carried through. Eyes closed with his head tilted to the heavens, he listened for anything. Signs from the Dread Father, the Shunned Ones, anyone who was trying to reach out. If there was anyone around.
He had heard whispers of what the higher ones looked like, though in his own mind, he imagined they were a mixture of life and death.

I do wonder if anyone is truly listening, if you are.. Your children are suffering, an onslaught of pale strangers for months now have been claiming the land. Now two lives. Though I did not know Honi, nor Morrigan. Well or at all, there must be something you can do.. You need to guide us towards something, how do we stop this? To stop this ever growing insanity that has caused grief and agony within those who look to you for guidance. The gruff wolf was still as he thought, reaching out to the more unearthly presences that may linger around him.
Something seemed to respond, someone seemed to answer. The faintest pull on his fur as the wind picked up, hushed whispers seemed to swirl around him along the tree tops. Just out of reach, but he sensed something had responded.

Blinking open his eyes, something seemed to catch his eye as the moonlight reflected against the land before him. Though as soon as he saw whatever it was, it soon quickly vanished. Arawn knew that in reality, the higher ones wouldn’t simply show themselves and that what he saw was his imagination. For hope that the prayers and cries of the Vektreni would be answered sooner than later.
In a way, it was already too late.

Packmates were deceased. Children and family taken, those who were connected to those wolves whether by blood or by being bonded, were grieving while trying to live. But was any of it worth it? Would they be shown the way forward, how to rid the land of these white strangers soon?
Arawn figured in time things would become clearer, the light and path forward would become obvious to them. All they could do now was fight and protect one another from the harm sent their way by unknown sources.

He only hoped that they were all strong enough for it.

Word Count: 508

First piece for Arawn! :>
This is also for this months MSE! What's keeping him going is his faith in Vektrens higher ups, especially the Dread Father.

Description

Dettlaff's Grief | The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQwEXm…

Many things had changed in the last year in his life. The loss of his birth ‘pack’, though by actual meaning it was a mass gathering of wolves that shared one identical ideal. The loss of his daughter haunted him, clinging onto the hope that she had just disappeared.. taken to safety by another scattered member of that community. Then he found Vektren, the pack were plagued by the white ghosts like all that lived in these lands. Their very presence caused his blood to boil, and his patience to grow thin.
They needed to be eradicated, before the lives of the Vektreni were claimed.

A low humming bubbled from Arawn, as he sat alone pondering. The tone was gruff, even as a hum the pitch of his voice carried through. Eyes closed with his head tilted to the heavens, he listened for anything. Signs from the Dread Father, the Shunned Ones, anyone who was trying to reach out. If there was anyone around.
He had heard whispers of what the higher ones looked like, though in his own mind, he imagined they were a mixture of life and death.

I do wonder if anyone is truly listening, if you are.. Your children are suffering, an onslaught of pale strangers for months now have been claiming the land. Now two lives. Though I did not know Honi, nor Morrigan. Well or at all, there must be something you can do.. You need to guide us towards something, how do we stop this? To stop this ever growing insanity that has caused grief and agony within those who look to you for guidance. The gruff wolf was still as he thought, reaching out to the more unearthly presences that may linger around him.
Something seemed to respond, someone seemed to answer. The faintest pull on his fur as the wind picked up, hushed whispers seemed to swirl around him along the tree tops. Just out of reach, but he sensed something had responded.

Blinking open his eyes, something seemed to catch his eye as the moonlight reflected against the land before him. Though as soon as he saw whatever it was, it soon quickly vanished. Arawn knew that in reality, the higher ones wouldn’t simply show themselves and that what he saw was his imagination. For hope that the prayers and cries of the Vektreni would be answered sooner than later.
In a way, it was already too late.

Packmates were deceased. Children and family taken, those who were connected to those wolves whether by blood or by being bonded, were grieving while trying to live. But was any of it worth it? Would they be shown the way forward, how to rid the land of these white strangers soon?
Arawn figured in time things would become clearer, the light and path forward would become obvious to them. All they could do now was fight and protect one another from the harm sent their way by unknown sources.

He only hoped that they were all strong enough for it.

Word Count: 508

First piece for Arawn! :>
This is also for this months MSE! What's keeping him going is his faith in Vektrens higher ups, especially the Dread Father.