Perrin Aybara hadn’t always been connected to the wolves. He remembered that he hadn’t always been called Tolovar, Dire Overlord either. He grew up a relatively normal childhood, a blacksmith apprentice in the Two Rivers. Perrin had never been one quick to action and much preferred a slower pace. But that was then, and Wolves are never slow.
Perrin can hear the Wolves calling to him. Fearless Pups, eager to strip flesh from their prey, thinking only of the first strike, and the older hunters, a Snarling Wolf coming to mind when their thoughts tickle the back of Perrin’s mind, the image of the wolves growing bigger as they attacked their prey.
If it was only wolves Perrin had to communicate with, he thought that wouldn’t be so bad. But as the final confrontation loomed ever closer, new, or perhaps very old, things began to arise. Werewolves…fanciful stories from the Age of Legends given terrifyingly real flesh and teeth. The werewolves weren’t evil, that’s what Perrin’s connection with them told him. But they were WILD. Regular people by day, and… something else during the all too often Unnatural Moonrise.
It wasn’t until recently that Perrin himself could feel…stirrings in him. Looking up at the full moon with his large golden-colored eyes taking in the bright moonlight, Perrin could feel a change, the Lunar Frenzy. It had taken months for Perrin to come to terms with what had happened to him. He too was a werewolf. Whether it was his connection to the Dragon Reborn or just being ta’veren he wasn’t sure. But the werewolves begun calling Perrin another name…Tovolar, Dire Overlord
, and they believe it would be him who led them to battle.
The Wolves and werewolves used the lands up in the mountains and forests of Rockfall Vale and Cragcrown Pathway
to hunt and muster forces. The werewolves still maintaining their human personas in local villages. A Village Watch
who kept away evils in the night did their jobs, though not, Perrin surmised, in the same way the rest of the villagers suspected. The Hound Tamer
was teaching the others new manuevers and how to trample over their prey. Others were more loners, but no less ready, as it was all Fangblade Eviscerator and the Burly Breaker
could do to not march off to the final battle. And there was another, a strong man, and even stronger werewolf, took to calling himself Tovolar's Huntmaster
, foolish name Perrin always thought, but the man…wolf, was a good comrade and better Ranger Class warrior.
There were others besides him preparing for the final battle, and while distant, he would still feel the presence of another like himself…Arlinn she was called, or Arlinn, the Moon's Fury as she was called by the wolves.
Perrin was shook out of his musings by a sudden sharp howl, both in his mind, and in his ears, the Howl of the Hunt rang clearly across camp, echoed by other wolves, eager to deal what they called the Moonrager's Slash to the Twisted Ones. The wolves were ready... ready to fight the evil, fight the dark, and fight to win.
