The wolverine was a savage looking beast, black furred with blonde stripes running down his back and his eyes red with Bloodwrath and foam building up at his mouth. He sat in his tent, glaring at a small wimpy looking stoat that sat before him. The weasel quaked under the wolverine's stare.
"Where are my troops?", the wolverine growled, his voice a rumble like mighty thunder. "They should've been back by now. Speak!"
The stoat, who was named Yaky, tried hard to look into his master's insane glare. He gulped and said in a thin voice, "Master, they said it would take them time to find the Mountain ye spoke of. There is nought I can do, Radfra, but wait for them to return with news of the Mountain."
Radfra grabbed Yaky by his skinny neck. The st…Read more >