The sky had hardened around the mountain, his gaze focused out on the distance as he saw the way the ash curved… the sight from above painted the sky with the clear visage of an omen… a warning that they had come as a smirk began to tug at the corner of his lips. It was favorable. The gods were pleased with the actions they were taking. He had worried, if only to himself, that their timetable had not proven quick enough to consecrate the mountains but with the darkened sky, he was certain. The gods were pleased, and their victim would come to them soon.
He had been diligent at work, preparing the cliff for the sacrifice, establishing caches, patrolling what would be their borders… it all bode well.
He’d freshly re-stained his paws with rabbits blood, though he savored the idea of being able to soak it in that of one of their brethren… in a wolf that was stupid enough to near their lands or be drawn in. Only the strong survived, and those able to be drawn into the dangers of the mountain simply deserved their fate. Of that, he was absolutely certain, even without the prophetic nature of his dreams, convincing him that the gods spoke to him.
“The time is quickly approaching to stake our claim… to bless this mountain with the blood of our brethren.” He’d murmur, loud enough that an approacher might hear but more to himself than anyone else.