ISAR
Arm yourself
There was food here. There was people. Kin. He had no fond memory of anyone who had died in the past but he could spare a thought for them if it meant he would get to eat his fill. The Fyrhund skulked through the shadows at the outskirts of the milling throng, drawing some bewildered stares but caring little; he liked the shift better than his own legs these days. Liked being big, and scary, so that most kept their distance.
Snagging a large piece of something that might be chicken from a table, he retreated to the dark, watching as he gnawed on the meal. Kiada was there, laughing and talking; he watched her too, soothed by the presence of a familiar face. Of course, he recognized a few others too; men who had rejected him and left him outcast. Isar gave them a wide berth, slow to either forget or forgive.
Isar brought no lantern.
Snagging a large piece of something that might be chicken from a table, he retreated to the dark, watching as he gnawed on the meal. Kiada was there, laughing and talking; he watched her too, soothed by the presence of a familiar face. Of course, he recognized a few others too; men who had rejected him and left him outcast. Isar gave them a wide berth, slow to either forget or forgive.
Isar brought no lantern.
Because no one else here will save you
