Wolves

I admire wolves for many reasons, though few details will I express here because they are widely respected by many cultures. Dignity, intelligence, loyalty and complex social capabilities are traits typically cited. Many claim them either as a totem, spirit guide or companion.

Now, I take this moment for a confession. I told Westel that I once commanded wolves, and that they died. This is half true. They belonged to Viere, and I had no more capacity to control them than I could Westel’s own wolf, Ithruiel. Viere bred them so that they could protect, support, and monitor his interests around Tirisfal, and on occasion, near Silvermoon.

They were quite clever, the Generals, as I called them, in particular. These were six massive black wolves with fel-green eyes. But the Darkrider and his cohorts killed them, one of them by a signal flare thrust down its throat. The pack could not recover from this loss. Viere’s interest shifted elsewhere, as it always did, and the once magnificent pack succumbed to neglect. None remain.