09-30-2012, 06:18 AM
As more of his new pack mates entered the cavern, the storm seemed to grow more intense, and the grizzled wolf could almost feel the vibrations of the pounding wind through the rock. The untamed ferocity of it, put Einarr in mind of a berserker rage, uncaring who it attack, friend or foe, just filled with a desperate, all-consuming need to vent its wrath on the world around it. He observed those that entered, most he did not recognise, but there was the occasional familiar scent. All their reactions were different, a statement on the variety of personality that called Anathema their home. He did his best to subtly remain at a distance from those that appeared to him to be shaman, it reminded him too much of members of his birth pack, and if they could indeed see the spirits around a creature, he would hate to imagine what could be possibly seen around him. A sound from outside seemed to suck at his eardrums and he winced in pain, the reaction so instinctive he had reacted before he had time to think. It left behind a ringing, which Einarr attempted to rid by shaking his head. It would appear that he’d be hunkering down in this place for a while. That conclusion come time, he lowered himself onto his haunches to wait it out.