A putrid stench clung to the land, seeping low along the valleys and reaching up into the hills of the Vale with sickly fingers. The air was thick with a cloying stagnant fog, choking the lungs and burning the eyes of those who dared to cross where it lay thickest. A beast draped in a pallid coat moved through the miasma, at one with the noxious haze. That was not to say the influence of the effluvium was lost on the pallid ghoul. His pale eyes seeped with a thick mucus, and saliva pooled at the back of his tongue and dribbled thickly at the corners of his mouth.
Nearing a break in the red-leafed canopy, Garmr gazed up with fond regard towards the sky, eyes glistening with a fervent sheen. The sun, burning weak and sallow through the mist, was nearly overwhelmed by the bright beads of light flanking it. A grin pulled itself across the wraith's maw, knowing what it meant; Sköll had risen, the sun chaser now inching ever closer towards catching the sun. Things were starting to fall into place, and it was on Garmr and his kin to ensure the final push that would free the monster of the river Van from his bindings.
Long pale limbs carried Garmr towards the edge of a small pool, his muzzle dipping down towards the filmy surface. He dared not drink of it, the leathery dry pad of his nose stopping short of the fetid water. His silvered stare skimmed upward, finding a frog struggling and gasping at the surface. His tail lashed, knowing the creature's efforts were in vain and gaining a sick satisfaction of it. The pitiful wolves of this land would soon enough find a similar fate. Garmr turned away, senses sweeping the surrounding forest.
"@Skadi, come. There is much to be done. He beckoned, his commanding voice cutting sharp through the fog.