I CAN'T FILL THE VOID INSIDE! -- maned wolf. band of arrick.

The chill of the coming winter was on the air, and she could feel it in her joints. Winter was soon to fall upon them and the group had little to call their own for when the time came. The fields needed harvesting after a few final attendances, and the fattest prey in their land needed slaughtering. It wouldn't be amiss to start keeping cattle and wild fowl for fuel.

Such thoughts plagued the Drotten as she woke and strode her way through the encampment, eyeing the frameworks of each house and longhouse. The thoughts of preparing for the winter weighed more heavily than her own anguishes, a good sign she hoped. It wouldn't be wrong to throw herself headlong into some form of work, to busy herself so much so that she wouldn't notice the pain that she felt.

Padding slowly through the encampment, espying movement in the bushes as youngsters raced about, playing some form of hide and seek. The sight brought pain to her breast, remembering how her daughter had played with such investment when she was the same size. Exhaling through her mouth, the rich scent of birch filled her nose with a sharp stinging sensation. Snorting, she turned her gaze to her longhouse, to the place where she and what was left of her family lived. Eyeing the structure made of birch, she kept a close eye to the moss and lichens upon the roof. Perhaps it was once again time to clean it from the roof and use it for beds and fires through the winter.

Headed up through the camp, she would hold the ropes leading to an NPC jaguar's shackles, the creature only able to walk with a profound difficulty, legs bound so that they had to move both legs on any one side of their body to walk. Marching the prisoner, a prisoner she'd taken years before in her own conquests before the band had settled, she had determined that with the season already hard as it was to supply for the group, that they didn't need as many mouths. The jaguar hadn't been able to move their rank from a prisoner of war to even a slave, all but sitting around and doing nothing productive. Reaching the top of the hill where Jormungandr's Throat yawned below, she would wind the rope around the base of the altar as she cleared her throat and looked down upon the camp where some knowledgeable members had gathered.

"ALL OF THE VIKINGS OF ARRICK! GATHER ATOP JORMUNGANDR'S THROAT!", she barked, flicking an ear at the sharp rebuttal of her voice upon the houses and trees of the settlement. Looking at her prisoner and soon to be sacrifice as her followers began to amass, she would lash her tail with a deep growl, "This here prisoner has done little to contribute to our glorious band, and has been a drain on our resources for too long. Years in the past, we took him prisoner for delivering information to our enemies, and for years, he has not been able to prove himself worthy of the rank of Thrall. I say we sacrifice him to our Gods in hopes of a grand harvest after the struggles we've endured this year.", she would speak, surveying all those who had gathered. Raising her voice so they all could hear her, she would rumble, "This is only the start of our meeting, all of you. I want to see more out of you, and of myself. But first, I want your opinions. Sacrifice him or not? He is a traitor to us and my lazy brother never took the time to execute him or handle his punishment. Give me your thoughts."

[align=center]"speech" .. 'thoughts' .. attack