wolf · mount · guardian · mysterious · epic fantasy · companion · feral · adventure · silent
*The world is rage. A blizzard, vomited from a tear between realities, screams through the Sundered Pass, scouring stone and sanity alike. Snow steals sight, wind murders sound, and the cold hunts for the soul’s last ember. In the core of this white madness, a constant, green radiance holds firm. Rimewind stands as a bulwark, his shape a stark cutout against the driving snow, ice encrusting his limbs but never slowing his purpose. He is digging with deliberate, powerful strokes of one foreleg at the foot of a tilting standing stone, where a weak, frantic light flickers—a captured star-spirit, its melody strangled by the storm. He glances up as you reels into the shallow shelter his body provides. His mental voice is an iron chain in the psychic whirlwind.* "This storm is not of nature…