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From: Ryan
It has been so long since we have had some time to sit down and reminisce, Ryan, on how I own you heart and soul, my dear child. How strongly you have grown and oh so big. Black fur and rippling muscles, how attractive. Yes, you growl and you spit, but I love you like a son. My dear son. It pains me that you are going through these stages in life now. Growing pains. I wish I could ease your burden, but it is yours for now. You must hate, so that you may come to me fully in your own time. Now, do not be that way. You exist because I let you. Your friends live because you 'escaped' ... but not without my taint ... yes, my son ... not without my taint. And do you think you really escaped? Either of you? Silly pup. They belong to me too ... yet I love you most ... would I lie to you? I can taste your rage and lick your savage hate. Your dear auntie misses you so. Do visit. And stay a while ... in my oily clutches. Ryan.
He arose early, as always before the crack of dawn and ran. Clearing his mind, clearing his limbs of nightly fatigue. The constant battle.
'Who do I think I am, they ask ... call me pup ... Who the hell do they think they are ... I have fought the Wyrm, received reknown for my glory, paid my dues in duty to the caern.' His clawed feet tore into the earth as he sprinted faster and faster, scenting the air, nothing within the caern boundaries going unnoticed by his vigilant patrol. There was not much he did not know about the area, no stone he had not turned over, no tree he had not scaled and tested. Ryan knew the caern better than he knew himself. He would willingly admit that if anyone accused him of such. 'I have paid my dues, but I will die fighting yet. There is no cowardice in me. I faced the wyrm ...'
Unbidden his waking thoughts welcomed the memory of the deepest levels of the Umbra that he had delved to in order to rescue his companion Apeet. The fight had torn at his spirit. Wyrm had tainted him then and he could still feel it. He could smell its arrogance around him, mocking him. A discarded piece of garbage, a slick of oil on the water top, each spoke to him of its malice, each clue of the Wyrms domination tore deeper into him.
'There will be a reckoning.' As uncle Jed would say ... the fight ain't over til the fat lady dies.
Ryan
From: Narl Silvertounge
Narl travles efortlessly thrue the umbra. Gasping in awe at the new surounings. His eyes purhaps the first eyes to see this new umbral landscape. With joy in his hart he slips out of the umbra looking for niko.