404 words.
The muscular warrior kept on examining the cold, hard ground, staring intently as if something would rise from the earth's core any moment. This action of bending to her was not the foreign warrior's way to kiss up to any leader - it was by customs and way of life that brought him to one knee. Ears swiveled atop his helmeted head, when the words of the queen graced them, in a tone that already called for acceptance. The ways of the wolves in these lands were much stranger, much more.. calming - to a warrior who knew nothing but obedience to leaders, and loyalty to the Warrior Band.
And it was those words that made the large male shut his red-violet eye for a moment, as if listening intently to the white queen's words - no, commands. To him they were commands, as much as her voice proved otherwise. Like an obedient pup, his bone tainted mass raised from the ground, standing as quickly upright as he could. Whether the queen before him knew it or not, the Guardian of Victory now had a new goal - to protect her at all costs. No matter what strange ways the wolves of these lands held to, the warrior held onto his own, silent beliefs. Warriors in his homeland were fully expected to obey their leaders, and any doubt otherwise led to intense punishment. Blood and war was life, and life was full of blood and war.
The phantom was already disappearing into the winter mist of the cliffs, and 'King mentally kicked himself for not hurrying behind. Earth trembled under him as the warrior took giant steps to catch up, finally falling behind the queen. She was nearly as tall as he was, though now he stood behind her, eyes slightly downcast, the guardian for a queen whose name he did not know. He did not have to know, he knew his purpose already. Her following words were quick and simple, and the warrior only spoke when asked to. "Viking," he grunted, with an accent that was all but familiar to these lands. The voice was deep and guttural, a perfect match for the off-white colored beast. "Protect.. my queen." His English was broken, though the warrior explained as best as possible. There was no hint of sarcasm or doubt in his words, they were as true and deep as the scars he bore.
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