A Dark Reunion

The wolf dropped the hand from its mouth and raised its head to howl in challenge. As its song filled the air it form shifted, blurring until it took on the shape of a man, tall and muscular.

Miles Crow smiled and the scars on the right side of his face pulled the corner of his mouth into a visage of madness.

"Fenrir sends his regards." he growled and his eyes began to glow with the deep gold of his new heritage. Slowly he drew two swords, one from either hip, and began to advance. As he did two more wolves emerged from the trees and came to pad along at his side.

"Olin..." urged Balar as he watched the advancing warrior, "Miles... it is us. Put down your blades, do you not know us?"

"Oh I know you." Miles snarled, "I see your bitch is dead. Too bad, she would have provided good sport for the pack, but you have others." he leered over towards Luna and gave her a wink.

"Miles what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Me? Nothing old man," he replied as he twirled his blades back and forth, "I have never felt better." and with that he charged the group.

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