Stories are just words without meaning.

[Skoll]

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Indeed, lol "My mother told me that the naming tradition where my father grew up was derived from ancient human beliefs. Fenrir was the entity my father cursed or prayed to, the oldest and most powerful wolf to have ever lived, the alpha of the great pack that every wolf joins when his body is spent. Freyr was a figure from those beliefs, a god of the earth and of storms, and of manhood. My brother and I were named by my father from the same tradition. Skoll is the wolf who chases the sun across the sky each day, while Skirnir is the messenger of Freyr. Freyja is the sister to Freyr, though I never heard of my father having any sisters, so I suspect it is coincidence." Skoll smiled at this last point, before going on. "Indeed, I would not have killed him. I had not experienced HawkWind's gift, I had simply been angry, and despairing of my plight, I lashed out, too young to see any other course of action. It was only later that I pieced together the fact that they had been trying to get me to leave all along, trying to make it easier on everyone involved...barring me. I still am not sure what to think of it. I know that my parents cared for me. Perhaps they thought it was necessary. I will always think that they executed their exile poorly." There was an old bitterness in his voice. There lie one of many scars which was unlikely to heal. "So...I wondered what to do with myself after that. I starved for a time, for I was not a very good hunter, and sought desperately for food. It occurred to me eventually that winter was on its way, and that if I did not belong to a pack before winter set in, I would die from cold and hunger. This realization hit me late in the season, and I had very little time to flee the outskirts of my home country before winter winds blew at my back. I fled, eating when I could, sleeping when I could, as the climate grew cooler and cooler, even as I ran south. In time, snow began to fall, and the sun became obscured, and it was difficult to tell direction. I found a river, and began to follow it south. I met a lot of wolves along the way, but mostly kept my distance. "Eventually, though, the river started freezing over, and narrowed into a creek. Eventually the creek simply stopped. It seemed to run into the ground, and had mostly frozen over. Myself, and the rest of the wolves who had been traveling along it, came upon this fact just as a blizzard hit, more powerful than anything I had experience before...or since. For months there was no escape...two earthen shoulders protected us from the wind, but a wolf could not hear or see or smell in that white hell...gods, was that a sight. Have you ever seen a wolf who is starving to death, Lubomir?" He gave his story pause for an answer. "Well, it isn't pretty. They become desperate, they become crazy, they become willing to do whatever need be to fill their bellies. A few fishermen had come with us, wolves with the tools and the know how to catch the fish of the creek where they had broken holes. Wolves swarmed around these men, stealing or begging for their catches, and these men were made as slaves to the starving masses. I found one who was far upstream...I had been unable to push my way forward to take any food at the other fishing sites, I was still just a yearling. The crowd around this man was smaller, three wolves surrounding him. I asked if I could have food, and their leader, who had been extorting the old fisherman's catch and leaving him hungry, told me off. Told me to run off or he'd kill me. HawkWind's gift took me. My vision flashed red, and I knew not what I did. When I awoke mere moments later, his blood dripped from my fangs, his throat rested between my teeth, and his cronies fled for their lives. I do not know what it was they saw when they looked upon me, but two grown wolves should not have run from me. Perhaps they thought I had rabies, I'm not sure." "Anyway, the old man made a bargain with me. He would take the first fish, I would take the second, and I would protect him from others like those who had subjugated him before. Soon, other wolves approached us, desperate for food. We allowed as many as we thought his skill could keep fed. After we reached his limit, we had to turn others away. Violence would often ensue, and that was what I was for. I felt the embrace of HawkWind's gift three other times during my stay there, but for those who feared me, there were those who admired me, too. I was protecting their food...and they were grateful, and I was grateful to them for their gratitude. It was then that I decided that fighting would be my life. I could do it well, and it was a way to belong without family. We escaped from the Creek a few months after we became trapped, and the ordeal was over." ~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.

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