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2019; Genres - Thriller; brief - The Wolf Hour is a movie starring Jennifer Ehle, Naomi Watts, and Emory Cohen. June was once a known counter-culture figure, but that was a decade ago. She now lives alone in her South Bronx apartment, having all but cut herself off; Alistair Banks Griffin; Director - Alistair Banks Griffin; Cast - Naomi Watts. The wolf gang clutch. The wolf hour reviews. That song like Wolfe's. The Wolf is life in snow. That would be great wolf. However we love wolf 🐺. His Sow Cute little bit wolf.

The sea wolf audiobook. I usually hate hollywood but jennifer aniston is a talented actress every movie she makes i enjoy it. One single after another, this album is gonna bang. This is so good it reminds me of my other favorite band current joys. The wolf hour book. Tyler the creator wolf sweatshirt. TL;DR fuck Kormantine and Cole, fuck TheSerfsTV, fuck Hasan, fuck BadBunny, fuck Mike from CCP, fuck Alebrelle, and fuck Trihex, There have been a lot of "big drama events" that have transpired lately, and I've noticed a lot of people attempting to gaslight me (or my audience/fans etc. about what events actually transpired. This post is here to serve one purpose and one purpose only, and that's just to document history. I don't expect to "set the record straight" because the people who don't believe me and are attempting to revise history are never going to read anything like this anyway, so here we go: Kormantine and Cole MindWavesTV invited me onto the Big Brain podcast to have a discussion about political issues with a cast of other people. I'd been on once before and I had a good time, so I accepted the invitation. This is a list of topics I was given for our discussion that night. The "n-word" topic is noticeably missing from this list. To be clear, I don't mind discussing any topic, with any person, in any environment, at any time. I'm okay with this. But I was absolutely ambushed by Kormantine and Cole Cash on this topic. They're understandably upset with how things turned out because what they were expecting would be an execution got reversed into a double homicide. Kormantine questioned Mindwaves numerous times throughout the podcast, asking him if " is this what you wanted. He follows it up with a "I didn't ask to talk about this. This is a very strange response from Kormantine for multiple reasons. From Cole's Twitter, it seems as though him and Kormantine had already spoken behind the scenes about being "vs" me. Or maybe he was suggesting we were going to have a heated conversation 's oil exports. Cole also seems to state afterwards that he came into the conversation with the "goal to expose that destiny is a racist and a horrible person" and "wanted @andraydomise to use his intellect to expose this as well. When I'm ambushed with "the n-word topic. Kormantine smiles and says " that's the only one I came here 's fuckin' go. MindWaves confirmed afterwards that Cole " asked for this topic. What we're seeing from Kormantine when he repeatedly asks "are you happy with this. is this what you came here for. is a performance. I'm not sure if he even cares about black issues at all, but I do know that he absolutely put on a performance for the audience to show his indignation at discussing a certain topic, despite him not only asking for it without my knowledge but gleefully engaging with it at the start. It's a little troubling because I genuinely do care about issues related to language + other minority issues, so it's very irritating to have to argue with someone like Kormantine who's clearly only here for the social capital, as demonstrated by the performance he puts on above. I'd like to document a bit of behavior by Cole before we go anywhere. For some reason people keep pointing to me being harsh during the debate, but never bother to mention any of the instigation that Cole does (implicitly endorsed by Kormantine, as these two are here together and knew they were coming together for one topic) for the entire duration of his podcast stay. Before the podcast has even started, Cole is throwing shade my way without mentioning my name. I'm not one of these 'I debate for a living. I'm not one of these internet dudes. I don't @ you, I get at you see me outside of here, it's the same energy. For some reason still trying to subtly swing at me before we even get to the topic. That goes for some individuals on this you know you damn well you couldn't walk into a room full of people of color and say somethin' like that. From a clip posted earlier, if you listen a little we already get a good "look into the camera when you speakin' boy" before I've ever made a single comment about him. Starting off the arguments real strong. You bein' the racist you are. refuses to respond to my questions, just posturing about me getting attacked in real life by black people if I ever said the n word to them. "Just embrace being the racist that you are. More posturing about how I'd " never keep that same energy with the n word in a room full of black people " even though the conversation has absolutely nothing to do with it. Random jabs. you ain't built like that to be speakin' like that publicly 'cause your heart pumps Kool-aid. He admits " there's nothing logically I can say about it. You have no empathy and no human emotion. In response to a question "why should I let you dictate my personal speech" he postures again and asks " are you going to TwitchCon. like he's going to attack me or something. James continually interjects with dumb comments/shower insults over and over again during the discussion. Ahrelevant comes in and says that he supports my view on language and asks Cole what he thinks about that, Cole basically calls him and Uncle Tom and says he " needs to spend more time with [his] own people. James continues posturing and basically arguing that he shouldn't have to provide any arguments because of his "real life experience. I'm acting how I would in the face of blatant racism, only on the internet do I have to deal with the idea that I have to intellectualize the n-word. Then he leaves pretty much immediately after, having made absolutely no arguments whatsoever. I'm just telling you straight up, this is bullshit. I gotta bounce. Here's another example of Kormantine performing for the audience. He tells me that he is here to "debate his humanity" claims that I "might be able to talk over him" but that I'm ultimately saying "black people are not welcome" then follows that up and says that Cole left because of my abuse towards him. If you can take anything away from this, it's that Cole was never here to put forth any actual arguments, he was only here to stir shit, and Kormantine incessant defense of Cole's character is an indictment on his own. If you think that "role" he came to serve here is justifiable, okay, we can have that argument, but don't pretend he came here to ever engage in a good faith argument. Now let's talk about Kormantine. Hasan has claimed that I was "triggering" to them and that my debate with him was unfair; I've heard other "Destiny support group" members speaking about how I "refuse to accept sources" or that I "debate disingenuously. This is a claim that gets brought up time and time again, so let's take a look through some of the exchanges of our conversation and see if Kormantine was as productive as people say. Firstly, Kormantine already revealed his true colors (can I say that. before "the n-word" debate had even began - he had already laid into people in a prior discussion, gate-keeping an ad-homming the fuck out of multiple people on the show. To begin, Cole chimes in out of nowhere to attack Bastiat with no response from Kormantine, just a slight chuckle, saying he's " corny as I thought you'd be. Kormantine literally shuts Pxie up, telling her that " before anyone else talks you gotta know what the fuck you're talking about. I didn't really run through this convo to document every instance of it, but Kormantine interrupts Pxie constantly, the only two people who ever try to give her speaking time in the conversation are Ahrelevant and I. In response to Bastiat's arguments concerning a Canadian pipeline issue, Kormantine chimes in with " it would be great to talk about Canada with people who know what the shit they're talking about. later on when I try to respond with something about green energy, he aggressively throws a "I know you're not talking, what the fuck are you talking about man. out of nowhere at me. He also randomly tries to gatekeep the convo by asking "can you talk to me about raw oil exports out of Canada. Playing the victim afterwards again, Kormantine claims he " wasn't aggressive " because of a pre-existing relationship with Bastiat, although even Bastiat seems to acknowledge Kormantine's aggressiveness. So before we've even gotten to what I'd consider a hard topic, Kormantine has come out of the gate with a few incredibly negative traits. Firstly, he's willing to drop unprovoked ad-homs, eg "you don't know shit about this. Secondly, he's willing to gatekeep convos by doing very odd, unrelated trivia games ( CAN YOU TALK TO ME ABOUT THE RAW OIL EXPORTS OUT OF CANADA. thirdly, he's willing to scream over people and shut them down in the conversation (stop talking stop talking stop talking) and fourthly, he's willing to play victim when he gets called out on his aggressive tactics. Just as a note, I've never had someone present to me any evidence of me ever using "aggressive debate tactics" in a debate before. It's generally the opposite, where people like Kormantine will talk over me, personally insult me, engage in horrible/fallacious arguments, and then turn around and cry to his friends while accusing me of doing the same. It's kind of ironic that he's already engaged with most of the "debate tactics" I've been accused of using. On that note, let's look at some of the gate-keeping Kormantine does in this conversation: First we get a random appeal to authority, a good ole. does anyone study this for a living. This is going to be a common theme during the debate. Kormantine is very quick to "cite studies" but he never wants to actually break them down or go into detail for any of them. Instead he entertains the classic "gish gallop" and will pick up books and throw a ton of studies at me but never allow me to content or analyze any individual one. Here we get some textbook gish galloping. In case you don't know, the point of a gish gallop is to overwhelm your opponent with arguments (good or bad) without giving them a chance to respond. Notice how he literally begins this gish gallup by interrupting a point I couldn't finish. There's no reasonable way I can respond to him just holding up books (that he's likely never even read) and saying "this study says you're wrong, also so do the footnotes lol. Notice how he will never dig into any of the studies he's mentioning, ever, his goal is always to simply overwhelm with "information. When I try to bring up that video games can be linked to aggression and whether or not we should cancel violent video games, he tries to hand-wave the massive meta-analysis I bring up by saying " lawyers from the 80's skewed all the research. The hilarious thing about this is that Kormantine is referring to fucking Jack Thompson, a disbarred lawyer who has no published literature, nor influence on published literature. This is making me seriously doubt Kormantine* s credentials. Kormantine interrupts me again to monologue about random, irrelevant anecdotes. For additional humor, he literally says "why are you yelling at me" after interrupting me twice. A good ole' ad hom. this is how I can tell you've never studied racism in your life. I point out that we're not having a conversation because he's literally gish galloping me, and his response is to tell me that I'm " not on his level. We never do get to analyze one of these studies he brings up; he's never interested in engaging with any of the material. The funny thing, if he actually as an academic he would be overjoyed to share his research with us on the podcast. I'm pretty convinced he's never read any of the literature on his desk. Again, Kormantine literally shuts down Pxie with a " you can't talk about this because you're not black. From an "academic" point of view, he's essentially ceded all ground. He's engaged in a ton of overwhelming statements, he hasn't given me time to respond to anything, he's continually derided my educational background and he's sat back while Cole has fired off random shots at me. Let's see if he fares any better answering questions at least? Is there any difference between slurs. What a stupid fucking question. He never gives an answer to this question. Nice little "how are you gonna debate me on my humanity" thrown in there, too. He asks me " what is black exactly. I give an answer, then he says it's incorrect, and when I try to push him on it he refuses to give an answer and is constantly evasive. He never gives an answer to this question. For added irony, he throws in a bit of gate-keeping at the end of this one as well. I begin to throw back the "I know you're wrong about this because you're not educated" insult back at him, this is when people start to get upset that I'm deriding his educational background. In response to a question about whether or not white people could make an edgy joke, he evades the question and responds with a " it would make me question why a white person would want to engage in that " instead. I ask why it's okay to engage in some forms of edgy sexual practices (like rape-play) but not edgy humor (like racial humor. Once again, he evades this question. Even when Ahrelevant brings it up later, he still refuses to give an answer because he is not capable of grappling with this subject matter. First he says that every racist joke is unacceptable, then he says backpedals and says that you need to "understand the context in which we live" in order to use racist jokes. He ends with "you're not George Carlin. this mean if I was funny enough I could make racist jokes. I think there are more examples but I'm too lazy to dig more out. So at this point it's clear he's not good at presenting information, nor is he good at answering questions. What is he good for? Ah, perhaps attacking my "soul" or "humanity" then. What kind of void do you have in you as a person. I don't even get to respond to this before Cole jumps in with some more dumb shit. He literally interrupts everyone to ask " what is missing in your soul. I don't debate my humanity with most people. And then crying about "you might be able to shout me down" and then blaming us on Cole cashing out, saying the reason Cole left was because we were abusive to him. More emotional appeals that are totally baseless. To claim that Cole was the one being abused is fucking rich. Any other bonus memes? Ahhh, here's a good one, when Kormantine decides to go "brother to brother" he quickly discovers that Ahrelevant isn't black enough for the conversation and attempts to gate-keep him, saying he wouldn't be able to stand by certain Civil Rights people because he hasn't read the right books. Your blackness does not make you answerable. here my brother. This is easily one of the most disgusting and racist things I've seen in this entire conversation thus far. Kormantine is a piece of shit who was never capable of engaging in this conversation. The best thing he could do for black issues is to find someone who can actually hold a conversation without devolving into a shit-slinging fest right out the gate. He's a disgrace to this topic and he does his communities a disservice by the way he acts in them. The way he treated Ahrelevant in this conversation by gate-keeping his black experience is one of the worst things I've ever seen in my entire life; I almost felt like I was watching a Candace Owens propaganda video. TheSerfsTV This guy has been a snaky piece of shit to me by sniping with random shitty comments about me in the past, but I let it slide because I figure he's just memeing to fit in with friends. Let's see how he responds, after everything we've witnessed, to a pretty basic question. I essentially ask " do you think Kormantine made a good faith approach to this conversation. He responds by saying I was acting in bad faith by being condescending and calling him stupid. He says he was here for the whole 3 hours and apparently never heard Kormantine do it. This is what I mean when I say these people are spineless fucks with zero conviction. It's incredibly frustrating to have all of these people in a call gaslighting the fuck out of me while I'm trying to navigate a pretty brutal discussion with multiple people attacking me and other cowards jumping into the middle of the call to fight as well (Hasan) all making claims that things that happened didn't actually happen. Hasan I could write pages on the stupid shit Hasan says, but let's focus on a couple of things that are just hilariously wrong. "The reason why Destiny's targeting Cole is because he's the weak link 's emotional on the subject. Hasan claims Cole only loses because the internet is full of nihilistic edgelords. "Destiny's attacking him more than Kormantine, and even when he does he attacks his education. This is literally Destiny defending his use of the n-word. Imagine how insanely dishonest you have to be to run with this take for the conversation. By the way, what is Hasan's stance on the private/public language divide? No one knows, not even Hasan! When Hasan is talking to Trihex, a black man, he says " ultimately, no matter what, it implies the person themselves are a racist person. Ah, okay, I suppose he believes it's racist, then, no matter what; that's clear, right? When Hasan jumps onto the podcast and claims that me defending my stance on private vs public language amounts to " belittling black people. Okay, cool, so we know his stance, at least he's consistent on When Hasan is talking to me, a fellow white person, in a one on one context, his stance suddenly switches up to " sometimes it's contextually appropriate to use edgy humor. However, he just defended that position publicly to me, completely erasing his entire complaints that " I was undoing everything I'd worked for by defending my use of the word publicly. Ahhhh, okay, so Hasan is just too much of a coward to tell a black person his true feelings on the issue. Instead he performs an "act" to win their approval, but when confronted by a white person he's comfortable enough to admit his true stance. What does Hasan think about Ahrelevant? Oh, Hasan calls him a Destiny bootlicker. Nice one, dude. This is such a disgusting, virtue signaling performance for minorities to try to get them on his side. Pretty rich that he says my " sentiments about social justice are fake " after these takes. BadBunny I just want to remind everyone that BadBunny is a piece of grifting shit who insults her " new friends " behind their backs. She claims the DMs are fake, but she swiftly unmodded some of her mod team and wiped her Discord as people were continuing to dig up information about her. Mike from CCP Mike from CCP (central_committee on Twitch, named after the Soviet Union's central committee) is a Beta Tony who wants you to believe he's an Alpha chad. He lies about his credentials (he says he's a lawyer but he " worked in the Pitt law school securities arbitration clinic assisting elderly clients, and in various positions as a research assistant at law firms. to not only "win debates" on my stream, but I guess to run in elections in the real world. He's also too scared to take a strong position supporting the Hong Kongers but gave a 3 minute monologue on how horrible Blizzard is (the reason being he hates companies but is too much of a coward to shit on China because of his tankie fan base. Alebrelle Alebrelle is a creepy piece of shit who will tweet at literally anyone and everyone (appropriate or not) to get laid, including stalking a girl (stalking her from her OkCupid through to her Tumblr through to her Twitter through to her Facebook. He's also a creepy fuck who tried to " protect Eva's purity " from me when they came to chat with me in my hotel lobby for a bit, including bringing me up in their chat Alebrelle is also a snaky fuck who asked me to host a trans-person's charity, then complained ON MY OWN SUBREDDIT THE NEXT DAY when some people from my chat were toxic (it was a pretty big host so there were a lot of randoms from my Twitch chat that went over. Oh wait, maybe that's not his account, after all he does speak about himself in the third person to seem like it's not him, yeah? Oh wait, the dumbfuck has a flair of his account on the Twitch subreddit. Also nice " Destiny pedophile jokes " in BadBunny's chat. I guess those "nice guy" SJWs who just leverage their position to try to fuck as many girls as possible is true. I'd say "people" instead of "girls" since he constantly claims he's pan or whatever but it seems like he literally exclusively thirsts after women so who knows. Trihex Originally I had mixed feelings on this one, but my experience with Mychal going back and forth on whether or not my takes are "acceptable" has been incredibly frustrating in the past. I generally confront him with some political take on our show, he says he'll "look into it. then he converses with the lefty squad of dipshits that hate me and then comes back thinking I'm wrong about everything again. Here are some things Trihex has said about language: When it comes to the n-word usage, I do believe in the liberation of language. My two prior roommates, a Vietnamese friend and a white guy, they used nigga all the fuckin' time, they were the ones super into the whole thing. There's a modernized contextualization, I didn't really care. and The intention of how that word is used can give you more than just a binary good or bad judgement over the usage of the n word even with a hard r. Was it being used to be humorous or to insult someone.? and My take on language. I'm pretty liberal on language usage, the modernization of language is important to take into account, anytime you taboo a word you're giving them boosted power. I'm always eager to hear the context of how things are said before I play the word police. Now what in the flying fuck changed so hard that you are literally so upset about my "usage of the n word with a hard r" that you literally just defended a few weeks before IN FRONT OF ME, ON A PODCAST, AGAINST SOMEONE SAYING IT WAS "dehumanizing. How did you go from verbalizing my arguments with crystal clear accuracy to crying on our podcast to make me look like the literal fucking hellspawn of the earth? Why are you complaining that you have to take a break from streaming because you're so upset with an incredibly public position that I've held and defended for years, even in front of you? Why the fuck is your girlfriend dogpiling on to tweet at me now, too? Why are you acting so emotional about this and claiming you cleaned up and changed your act completely when you still use ableist slurs like "retarded" publicly in my and other Twitch chats. 1. 2. 3] Or threatening to make Jew jokes? Or literally QUOTING UNCLE RUCKUS BY SAYING "NIGLET" which is EXACTLY the context I'm arguing for? It's amazing to me that all it took were a few USSR larpers whispering in your ear to turn you against me, and then you have the nerve to confront me publicly and ask how our friendship means so little to ME? When you 180'd your positions from LESS THAN A MONTH AGO because a group of lefty dumbfucks are telling you that I'm the devil incarnate? And then you expect me to empathize with your position while you have the entire internet rallied behind you with LSF threads hitting the front page of reddit shitting on me and every aspect of my personality? Fuck that, I've cancelled the podcast, I don't care if you want to continue or not, what kind of fucked up background do you think I come from where I'd ever deal with such a dysfunctional, one-sided relationship. Make sure to tune into DnD today at 2 PST guys it's gonna be a lot of fun! Me/Koibu/Lily/MrMouton and Katerino are gonna solve all sorts of fun mysteries.

Why does jen keep getting dumped though? 🤔. The wolf hour full movie online. The wolf hour (2020. Watch The Wolf Hour Online Themovie4u Watch Movie The Wolf Hour Movie Watch WaTcH The Wolf Online Revision3. The wolf man dvd. The wolf hour plot. Its been a great decade for roleplaying games, with many quality releases, both big and small. This is my personal list of the top ten games of the 2010s, based on actual play delivered at the table. I took a number of qualities into account: how innovative is the game? How vibrant is the community it has fostered? But most importantly, how fun is it? Only included are actual games, no supplements, expansions, or adventures. Also absent are any reprints, re-edits, or re-releases of any kind. New games only. Also, none of the games that I personally released are on this list, even though they are all excellent. And despite my best efforts, I have not managed to play all the games that have been released this decade, so there are likely some games that have passed me by. #10: Microscope (2011, Ben Robbins) Ben Robbins was originally most famous for his D&D experiment the West Marches, an epic hexcrawl game featuring multiple players in the same world, dropping in and out of fluid groups. This same world building drive is seen in his later games, Microscope, Kingdom, and Follow. I dont even like Microscope. I think its too dry, too easy to get caught up in the mechanics of the game to avoid caring about the emergent story. But I cant deny its brilliance, or the ambition of its premise. In Microscope, you and your fellow players create a timeline of events, regarding any topic you agree on before the game begins: the rise and fall of an empire, the ongoing war between the gods, or the history of a single city. Players take turns creating events on a timeline, and then zooming in on key points to play them out. These scenes are the only in-character play Microscope features, and risk end up being stilted. The end result also ends up being pretty gonzo, because while theres some exercises at the beginning to get everyone on the same page, and generate a list of elements that are encouraged or disallowed, after that there is not supposed to be any player-level negotiation. Dont like what someone did? Play somewhere else on the timeline. If players cant harmonize their visions for the timeline, Microscope goes off the rails. But despite all this, Microscope serves as a roadmap for many of the worldbuilding games that followed. #9: Mythender (2012, Ryan Macklin) Do you want to roll a bunch of dice? No, even more dice than that. No, keep adding some. Oh dear, I think you may have to buy some more dice. Okay, you can stop now. Lets go kill some gods. Mythender is a frickin metal game of epic heroes on the cusp of godhood themselves going out and killing some tyrant gods. In the tutorial adventure, which teaches the ropes of the game, the heroes get to kill Thor, and theres rules in there for pruning the whole Norse family tree, or the pantheon of your choice. Narrate impossible stunts, get a ton of dice, use those dice to get even more dice, then blow up a god. You can always draw upon your own mythic strength to get more dice and cool powers, but you risk becoming a god in the process… and becoming the next Myth that needs to be Ended. This is the game that I wanted Exalted to be, high-powered, high-stakes action. The mechanics are essentially a die pool system, however a very unique one that is a bit unintuitive to take in all at once, but the tutorial adventure introduces these mechanics in a very logical series of events. The game also properly establishes the mindset for the GM to treat the players with the respect their characters deserve, addressing them as Lord or Lady Mythender, and acting almost like a game-butler. This game does just one thing, but man does it do it well. #8: Dungeon World (2012, Sage LaTorra and Adam Koebel) The first Powered By the Apocalypse World on this list, but it wont be the last. Like Microscope, Dungeon World isnt exactly my cup of tea, but its impossible to deny Dungeon Worlds impact. Dungeon World was originally envisioned as a way to adapt D&D for the indie crowd, but what it really ended up doing was adapting indie techniques for the D&D crowd. All the familiar D&D tropes are there, with a streamlined system that makes improvising for the GM easier and focuses on establishing interesting consequences for failure, resulting in the sort of dungeon antics that people remember fondly and talk about for years. As a player, Dungeon World often feels too easy for me, and as a Gamemaster, a touch too freeform: I seem to prefer concrete challenge in my dungeon delvers. However there are a lot of people whose tastes differ than mine, and if you enjoy the tropes of D&D but find the mechanics cumbersome you should give this a try. (Its one of the few games Ive gotten my parents to play; they both loved it, and my Mom even asked if we could keep playing after I suggested we wrap up for the night. 7: Dungeon Crawl Classics (2012, Joseph Goodman et al) Dungeon Crawl Classics exists in the orbit of the OSR (Old School Revival/Revolution) returning to the roots of D&D, back before editions were numbered and the dice had to be filled in with crayon and the road to the dungeon was uphill both ways and by golly thats how we liked it. Rather than serving as a fan edit or remix as many alliteratively titled OSR games do, DCC builds on what the designers viewed as the principles of OSR gaming and the narrative style of the fiction present in Gygaxs original Appendix N: Further Reading, while using the 3rd edition D&D SRD as a foundation for the rules. This is the swords and sorcery fantasy of Robert E. Howard and Jack Vance, with seven sided and twenty-four sided dice to bring back that sense of wonder you felt the first time you picked up those polyhedrons the first time around. DCC is just plain weird, in a way that many D&D imitators arent, featuring a magic system that feels strange and mysterious, interesting crits and fumbles, and a series of adventures that are some of the most imaginative around. DCC is particularly famous for the ‘0-level funnel type of adventure, where each player starts with 4 characters who have a d4 hit points and not much else, trying to survive by their wits and luck. This style of play is very divisive, much loved by some, hated by others, but certainly worth trying at least once. My main issue with DCC, which prevents this game from being higher on this list, is the holes in the rules, areas where things are a bit unclear, or a common situation results in a difficult to assess situation. (An example: any Wizard with a luck modifier rolling on the 1d100 Mercurial Magic adds or subtracts modifiers in increments of. 10, meaning that rolling off the table becomes statistically the most likely result. I would not recommend taking that as a result of 1 or 100, as they are extreme. In the OSR community these sorts of things are often viewed as an advantage, giving each individual gamemaster a way to put their own unique stamp on the game (no two GMs Ive played with seem to do Luck exactly the same, for example) but I am a firm believer that clarity is one of the most important things for a rules text, and making sure that rules can be universally understood is especially important for a game with as large an organized presence as DCC has. The game is gonzo as hell and I love it, but this clunkiness holds the game back. #6: Dungeons & Dragons, 5th edition, 2014, Mike Mearls, Jeremy Crawford et al) The only new edition of a previously published game on my list, many will be surprised at its placement at the number 6 spot. D&D is the behemoth of the tabletop games industry, easily the most visible and most played of any rpg. (The 2nd most visible and played is Pathfinder, which is now the 4th edition of the 3rd edition of D&D. After that it drops off sharply, in practical terms, there is no number 3 in market share. D&D 5th edition is the least innovative game on this list, taking its mechanics from earlier editions of the game. Theres something for everyone in here, no matter their favorite edition. Those ‘old-school gamers who felt betrayed by the design choices of 3rd and 4th editions find a return to the frameworks that they were used to, while keeping the best mechanical innovations of 3rd edition and a fair number from 4th. This is a ‘big tent game, designed to be approachable to all players, which means it does a lot of different things, but isnt great at any of them. In terms of sheer polish, this is the best D&D yet, and Wizards commitment to quality rather than quantity of source books has been refreshing. The published adventures present months of viable play, and are generally excellent. This version of D&D happens to coincide at the same time as the rise of streaming play, allowing prospective new players to watch a game of D&D before playing it, resulting in an expansion of the hobby like never before. While theres no reason that another game cant or wont be someones entry to the hobby, D&D has decades of name recognition behind it and dominates the rpg conversation. #5: Torchbearer (2013, Thor Olavsrud & Luke Crane) Like Mouse Guard (2009) Torchbearer is a revision of the core Burning Wheel rules: simplified in many extents, with a specific focus on a single style of play, and in this case that style is dungeon delving murderhobos. Torchbearer is a well oiled machine that chews up adventurers and spits them back out, hungry and tired, chasing that next big score. One of the best mechanics is the Grind, which by every four turns (a turn being one die roll or conflict) resources get used up and adventurers get worn down. Torchbearer demands skillful play of its players, both in interfacing with the dungeon environment and in mastering the game mechanics, which not everyone is willing to put the time and energy into, but is highly rewarding. Like Dungeon World, this is an old school dungeon crawler with modern mechanics, but where Dungeon World will fight you on an exploding steampunk zeppelin, Torchbearer will shiv you in a back alley for spare change. #4: Blades in the Dark (2016, John Harper) Easily the best system for heist games Ive played, Blades in the Dark casts the players as a band of criminals in a game of an industrial magical world of perpetual night. The system uses a pool of dice with the best number taken, 1-3 being bad, 4-5 being okay, and 6 (or even 2 sixes. being best. The system takes some getting used to, since it involves the GM setting stakes on two axis before the roll: how effective is the action being taken (Effect) and how bad are the consequences for failure (Danger. Because of this I find Blades challenging to run, and one of the few games that I prefer playing to running. The setting of Duskvol is well established in the book- perhaps too well established, since it can create an intimidating wall of information to process, and everything is linked directly or indirectly to everything else. Challenging to process, but resulting in a dark gritty world that feels alive with its own story and flow, existing despite the schemes of the players. The core of the system is the ‘Forged in the Dark system, which has already produced the excellent Scum and Villainy (planetary space rogues) and Band of Blades (military fantasy, reminiscent of The Watch. Success in Blades in the Dark is hard fought: most of the time there will be consequences for success, meaning any victory will come at a cost and be fleeting, which is fitting for the grim and perilous world of Duskvol, and has the potential to create an avalanche of play as things go wrong and repeatedly escalate. The danger in play is feeling like you are under the sole of a boot stamping on your face forever, unable to get out from under it, which is damn appropriate to the setting, but is it fun? It can be, but it can also get repetitive. #3: Itras By (2012, Martin Bull Gudmundsen and Ole Peder Giӕver) The best game youve probably never heard of. Or you have heard of it, in which case you are a person of distinguished taste. Itras By is a Norwegian noir surrealist roleplaying game, set in the titular city of Itras By, which exists in a dream and feels like something straight out of The Dark City or early-mid 20th century dystopian sci-fi. The book is beautiful and full of exercises to get the reader thinking about surreal game play techniques, including ones that encourage the reader to write in, deface, or otherwise physically modify the game text. Play is essentially improv, punctuated by cards featuring responses like “Yes, but. ” or “No, and…”, the same system used in games like Dictionary of Mu and Archipelago, for when an impartial resolution is needed. The other mechanic that influences play is the Chance Cards, which impart a bit of surrealality into the experience. Each player can draw one each session, and they have effects ranging from the subtle - your character gives a monologue to the audience about their inner thoughts – to the absolutely bonkers – objects and abstract concepts animate and begin to talk and interact with the scene. Play is super fluid, and can go from heartfelt to strange to silly to serious and back again seamlessly. Every session Ive played has been a joy, and incredibly unique. The Itras By Menagerie (2017) adds even more Itras-ness, with essays on play, new card suggestions, new setting stuff (including a section by yours truly) and is even thicker than the original book. This game is worth checking out, if only to see just how weird roleplaying can get if you let it. #2: Monsterhearts (1st edition 2012, 2nd edition 2018, Avery Alder) Monsterhearts is a game of teenage monsters, and being a teenager is often the harder part of that. Think of all your favorite tropes from media like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Twilight, Vampire Diaries, and other Teen Monster fiction, put them in a blender, and turn the melodrama up to eleven. Powered by the Apocalypse, each of the different playbooks (“skins”) is a different type of monster, with all your favorite monster mashers featured: the Ghost, the Vampire, the Werewolf, and the most evil of all monsters, the Mortal (who has the power to get into toxic relationships. Its awesome. The rules reinforce that the characters are teenagers and dont have the best control over themselves, creating messy storylines of love triangles and property damage, as hearts and bones get broken. My favorite rule is that of The Darkest Self, a paragraph on each playbook that turns them into a giant raging asshole, and a threat to everyone else, under certain conditions. The Werewolf wolfs out, the Witch goes mad with power, and the Ghoul goes on a feeding frenzy. Darkest Self gives you permission to be that guy who is like “Im just playing my character, ” - nay, it requires you to be that guy, and its liberating. This is a twisted game that results in twisted stories, and I love it. It is also the most queer-positive game out there: every character is queer by default. (Hint: the whole ‘becoming a monster is a metaphor for coming to terms with ones own sexuality. This is my favorite game to run for a con one-shot; in four hours it delivers a delightfully murderous time, every time, but the campaign games are just as fun, allowing for more of a slow burn story, dangerous secrets coming out (pun intended) and as much anticipation as waiting for next weeks episode on the CW. (A campaign I ran resulted in the “A Very Monsterhearts Christmas” session, which will forever live in Infamy in my playgroup. 1: Apocalypse World (1st edition 2010, 2nd edition 2017, Vincent Baker and Meguey Baker) Already beloved in the indie scene for games like Dogs in the Vineyard, Vincent Baker struck game design gold at the beginning of the decade with Apocalypse World, which spawned the Powered By the Apocalypse system, taking off and inspiring dozens and dozens of new games. Teaming up with his wife Meguey Baker (1001 Nights) this vision of the Post-Apocalypse is dark and gritty, painted in broad strokes with careful word choices, encouraging and demanding the GM and players to collaborate on building their own post-apocalypse wasteland, but fortunately giving everyone the tools needed to do just that. Where to start with this one? The dice system is simple: roll 2d6 and add a modifier. 7-9 is a success, possibly with a consequence, 10 or above is a full success, and 6 is a failure. However each die roll is a scripted ‘Move, with explicit rules for what happens at each level of result. This means the GM spends less energy interpreting results, and more time getting to be creative about how theyre going to screw you over when you finally do roll that 6 or less. Characters in Apocalypse World are larger than life, incredibly competent, and bound to make their mark on the setting around them, which is good- we want to be interested in them, right? People expecting a gritty system where death can come for you at any moment may be disappointed. Scarcity is everywhere, and death surrounds you, but the player characters are survivors by nature, burdened with enduring this broken world. One of the best things in Apocalypse World (and its a game full of best things) is the chapter on GM advice, laying out very specifically what techniques to use in running AW. Its concise, specific, and not optional: a lot of GM advice takes the wishy-washy tack of “heres some techniques you can use, if you want, I guess, ” and Apocalypse World takes that stance out back and shoots it. AW tells you specifically to Be A Fan of the Player Characters, to Ask Questions and Build on the Results, to Say What Honesty Demands, and best of all, to Barf Forth Apocalyptica. These mandates foster an environment of trust and collaboration between GM and players, and instruct the GM in how to run a killer game of Apocalypse World. The game is worth the price of admission for the GM advice alone; even if not running an AW game, much of the advice is widely applicable, and considering it carefully will make you a better GM even when running a game that demands the exact opposite of one of its Principles. I frequently see Principles (or statements clearly like them) transported into other games, especially ones not Powered by the Apocalypse, and I think this is great, calling attention to how to GM the game for maximum enjoyment, and a mark of this games lasting influence. In addition to making a damn fine roleplaying game, the Bakers have called attention to and codified roleplaying procedures that a lot of us had been doing anyway, and given us the vocabulary to talk about them in simple terms. Vincent Bakers thoughts on the structure of roleplaying games is like the discovery of the Atom, opening up advances in design in myriad directions. If there is a game that has defined the collective game design of the decade, this is it. Honorable Mentions: These are all fine games deserving of your notice, in no particular order except the alphabet. 13th Age (2013, Rob Heinsoo and Jonathan Tweet) A simplified reimagining of the D&D 4th edition experience, 13th age scraps the battlemap in favor of narrative flexibility. Full of cool ideas, mostly buried under the hype of D&D 5th edition. Dog Eat Dog (2013, Liam Liwanag Burke) a game about Imperialism and the effects it has on indigenous societies, Dog Eat Dog is fast, lean, and insightful. Fate Core (2013, Leonard Balsera et al) The generic system of choice for designers putting out essentially a setting book, Fate is well refined but bland. The earlier Spirit of the Century was a bit clunkier, but had a lot more spirit. Easy to adapt, a one-size-fits-all approach. Forbidden Lands (2018, Eric Granstrӧm) The only game on this list I havent actually played, Forbidden Lands is a dark fantasy Hex Crawl, using the same d6 system as Mutant Year Zero and Tales from the Loop. The boxed set is beautiful, and features a double sided Hex Map with stickers, making every groups Hex Crawl unique and generating a unique artifact to prove it. Ghost Court (2017, Jason Morningstar) Is it an rpg? Is it a larp? Ghost Court is advertised as a ‘party game, but lets get real, its a larp about ghost courtroom drama. Judge Judy with ghosts. You know you want it. Mars Colony (2010, Tim Koppang) A roleplaying game for two players, with one of them an administrator trying to save a failing Mars Colony. (Hint: its a metaphor for real world politics. It uses push-your-luck rolls to try to get progress, and issues ripped from whatever piss you off about politics in your country. Scum and Villainy (2018, Stras Acimovic, John Leboeur-Little) Its Star Wars Forged in the Dark. I actually like it more than Blades, since it feels a little more accessible. The Black Hack (1st edition 2016, 2nd edition 2018, David Black) An OSR game with razor-light rules, and tables chock full of weirdness. Already has spawned many Hacks of the Hack. The Clay That Woke (2014, Paul Czerge) Shouldnt you be thinking about minotaurs? Probably the weirdest resolution system of any game Ive played, bidding tokens into a bowl and then drawing them out and comparing the results to a table. Worth buying just for the strange setting, and has some interesting things to say about society and masculinity. The Sword, the Crown, and the Unspeakable Power (2018, Todd Nicholas et al) Game of Thrones powered by the Apocalypse. That should really be all you need to know. The Watch (2017, Anna Kreider) Military fantasy Powered by the Apocalypse, and the player characters are all women. And the shadowy enemy is Literally Patriarchy. World Wide Wrestling (2015, Nathan Paoletta) Im not a wrestling fan, and I loved this game. PbtA, the rules create a great narrative of in- and out of ring action. Just dont break Kayfabe.

I can't even remember being bitten by a rabid animal. But apparently, according to the doctors, I had the disease for six years without knowing it. Up until recently, everything seemed to be going great in my life. Then I started to develop the usual symptoms, anxiety, confusion, insomnia. Brief periods of terror. I began to have visions of a rabid, bloody dog. Frothing at the mouth. You're probably going to point out that I said I can't remember being bitten, and that's still true. Even though I experienced those visions, they didn't feel like memories, if that makes sense. It does to me at least. I fixated on the visions of the dog, which were always jarring and violent, and, again if my memory isn't playing tricks on me, I collapsed on the side of the road. If nothing else, it's the last thing I can clearly remember. After I woke up in the hospital, the doctors explained to me what happened. They tried using the Milwaukee Protocol on me, which consists of putting you in a chemically induced coma and giving you an antiviral cocktail. It's been proven ineffective, but they considered it my only chance at survival. Clearly, I did survive. The doctors couldn't confirm if the treatment itself helped, but in my mind, it didn't really matter. I was alive! In that moment, it was the only important thing. I was released from the hospital, but my family was supposed to monitor me for any suspicious symptoms. When I asked the reason for the caution, the medical team seemed to deflect my questions. I tried not to focus too much on it initially, but my thoughts were on their warnings on the ride home. And the dog, too, of course. During the coma, I had very vivid visions of the bloody dog, frothy jaws biting my arm. Logically, I dismissed it as something closer to a hallucination. For one thing, if the dog had bitten my arm, I would've obviously seen the bloody gash on, which would've prompted me to seek medical attention. The suspicions of the doctors kept popping up in my mind as a possible explanation, but there were massive pieces of the puzzle missing. After recuperating for a couple days, I decided to go for a walk around town. My parents were clearly worried, but the town I live in is fairly small, and most people would know that I was hospitalized. If something happened, one of them would help. I was feeling a bit like a shut-in, and kept pushing it until they relented. I had a specific goal in mind that I didn't tell them, though. I wanted to explore more of that country road that had so haunted my visions. If nothing else, it would remove any doubt I had that the visions were just that, a product of a diseased mind and nothing more. I walked about a mile out of town. A few of the cars stopped. People I knew asked if I was alright and if they should call my parents. I said no, I was feeling just fine, putting on my best civilized smile. I told them I just wanted to go the convenience store down the road, and that my parents were running an errand, so I didn't have a car. Honestly, I couldn't tell if any of them bought the excuse, but they returned my civilized smile and drove off, giving me mildly suspicious looks. I stopped once I reached the spot in the road that dominated my mind. I combed it carefully, pacing and trying to look for anything that would stand out. My search led me a little further into the woods, and at one point I became confused because I wasn't sure exactly what I was looking for. Panic began to mount, and that's when I saw it. The bloody dog frothing at the mouth. I wondered for a flash of a second how it survived out here for so long, because based on when I started to have the visions, it should've been long dead. I thought the same thing of myself. I should've been dead as well, but somehow I survived. The dog took off, and after a moment's hesitation, I sprinted after it, darting through the trees and almost tripping multiple times. I actually did trip once, falling and bumping my head against a rock. When I "came to" an old man stood above me, a deeply irritable expression on his face. "You again. he said, voice tearing through the woods and coming back to my ears like a boomerang. "At least you're not dressed in a hospital gown like last time. Apparently, I had been here during the time I was supposed to be in my coma. For part of it, anyway. "I feel like I've been here more than once. I said, my voice low for some reason. I rubbed my extremely tender head and winced. "That you have, boy. Irritating me each time. the old man replied. He extended a hand and helped me up off the ground. "Guess you couldn't resist the call of these woods. You keep coming back. Last time, you kept asking about my dog Charlie. I know he gave you the frothy mouth, but I ain't gonna tell anyone. If animal control comes sniffing around, I'll put him in the cellar until they go away. Charlie didn't anything wrong, except get bit by the thing. It hasn't done you harm, though. See? You're walking around, talking straight. You're of sound mind and body. The thing. I repeated. The old man sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're not content with vague explanations. Fine. I'll take you to where I found the thing. It's a cave not far from here. The old man stretched his back, picked up his walking stick from the ground. Charlie growled at me and frothed at the mouth. I still marveled how the dog, and me, survived even after the clear onset of symptoms. We walked for about a mile. The ground was muddy from all the melted snow. "You know what? I wasn't sure if you were going to make it when you first came into these woods and Charlie bit you. I figured Charlie was just a special case. But I just took you into my cabin, cleaned you up, and the wound healed within minutes. Strangest thing I ever saw, aside from Charlie frothing at the mouth every day, that is. It was absurd, but the fact that the wound had healed so quickly made my visions of the bloody dog make sense. I had been bitten, and it would make sense that the curious version of rabies that infected me might adapt to hide its presence. We stood at the foot of a cave, near a slow-moving stream. The cave itself was nothing special. The opening was narrow, and the old man and I had to squeeze through. We were in a very narrow tunnel which eventually opened up into a small cavern. "This is where I found the beast. The thing that bit Charlie. the old man explained, adjusting his flashlight. His facial expression went from despondent to especially sour, and I couldn't pinpoint the reason why. There was a small hole in the wall, enough for a decent sized animal to fit through. My eyes fixed on it for a moment, then they drifted to a human shape slumped against the cavern wall to my left. It took me a minute for my perception to organize the information. I screamed when I realized I was looking at a skeleton. "Calm down, that skeleton has been here well before you came into these woods. Years and years. Once the pounding in my chest subsided, I knew the old man was right. It was just a dumb skeleton. I knelt beside it, not sure what I would find. My feet bumped up against something which felt like a book. I picked it up, and even though the old man shone the flashlight on the pages, I quickly grew frustrated and closed it. Then a pair of yellow eyes peered through that small hole, and I heard growling. A snout filled with jagged teeth, some of them looking crooked, emerged from the hole. The rest of the thing slithered through the opening. The beast's body was long and thing, almost snake-like. At the same time, its size seemed intimidating. The old man yelled and made for the exit. I gave a terrified shriek and followed, for some reason holding onto the small book. Once outside, I quickly caught up to the old man since he used a walking stick. We were both close to the road before we slowed down. It took him several minutes to catch his breath, and he leaned on his walking stick almost painfully. "That beast has always been here, as long as I can remember. My dad, Alan, I mean, I always call my dad Alan, he taught me to be watchful of that place. Still, I couldn't help but explore the cave once, long after he died. And that's when Charlie got bit. I was surprised the old man didn't bring up the book, and I had enough forethought to place it in my back pocket after we exited the cave. I'm not sure what compelled me to do so, but I did. I told the old man that it was getting late, and that my parents would be getting worried about me. I said I would head back into town, and the old man pointed to his right, past the crescent of trees. "If you ever need me, I'll be past those trees. Just a little beyond them. The old man gave me a crooked smile, and I left, walking back down that road. The sun was setting, causing me to hold one hand over my eye. About halfway home, I saw my dad's red truck come speeding toward me. He looked angry. The reason was obvious. As I got in, he yelled at me, told him I had him and and my mother "worried sick. I just took my scolding. I had other, more important things on my mind. I actually had a few questions for my dad. I asked him what the medical team meant when they said to watch out for "residual symptoms. My dad hesitated. "You snuck out of the hospital, son. No one knows why, or how you did it. You were supposed to be in that coma, and you were. The doctors checked you out during the day time, and you were unresponsive. Somehow you managed to slip out at night. We even had windows locked from the outside, and you'd still walk through the front doors of the hospital like nothing happened. That's all my dad would tell me, and afterward, once we got home, I just said I was tired and went to my room. My mom wouldn't even look at me she was so upset. All I wanted to do was read that book I found in the cave. And it didn't disappoint. In a way, it left more questions than answers, but it illuminated many things. For instance, I wasn't the only human to have been bitten by the snake-like wolf in the caves. The book was a journal, apparently written by the skeleton. It experienced many of the same things as I did, visions of the bloodied dog, well, the wolf creature that had been in the caves. It seemed to me that why the author of the journal had visions of the wolf creature, while I had visions of the old man's dog had something to do with the specific creature transmitting the disease. The journal went on to talk about how the man didn't remember being bitten, but the visions increased in intensity. He felt compelled to explore the woods, to search for the beast that had entered his mind and remained there like a coiled asp. The man had the same symptoms as me and feared death, but the rabies didn't kill him. Once the anxiety, terror, and aggression subsided, he regained his mind. Things got stranger after the first several pages. He couldn't shake the image of the creature, abandoning it in the woods and devoting all of his thoughts to finding the beast. "I found it. the journal read. "I hope my son survives. The man had written his name at the very end. Alan. "Fuck. I whispered to myself. "This man was Alan's father. I wasn't sure what to do next. I did feel an inexplicable urge to go back to the woods. Images of the old man's dog kept popping into my head, but I ignored them for the larger picture. I needed to find out more about the beast, the wolf with the snake-like body. I didn't want to go back to the woods just yet, not the same day after my parents scolded me. I had to let things cool down a bit. As soon as I woke up the next morning, I made as if I was going to school. I took a side road, and made my way back to the hospital where I had recently stayed. I hope the doctor who treated me was around, or even some of the staff. I needed to know what happened during the nights I was hospitalized. I had been there for quite some time. I found a parking space, but idled for a moment as one important question popped into my head. If Charlie had been bitten, then why hadn't the old man I had met in the woods? It also occurred to me that I hadn't found a lucid explanation for why I had been in the woods six years ago. It could've been an innocuous thing, maybe I was with a friend. I just couldn't remember. I ended up talking to one of the nurses instead of the doctor who treated me. I suspected maybe he didn't want to talk to me. I tried prying answers from the nurse. I asked the nurse if she could remember anything on the nights I had come in through the front doors of the hospital, my state of mind, if I had been mumbling anything. The nurse hesitated, her eyes downcast. "N-not much. You just said you were searching for someone. the nurse replied. "Did I happen to mention who? Was it an old man? Tell me! I have to know. Some of the patients and doctors turned around and looked at me. "I'm not sure. I mean, I don't think so. Sounded like it was a friend of yours, someone around your age. S-someone you used to go to school with. I tried to get the nurse to explain more, but she knew nothing else that I could deem relevant. At least concerning the woods. She mentioned one other thing, about the treatment the doctors used. Or, what they did to me during the treatment, while I was in the coma. Apparently, I had a never before seen form of rabies. That part, I already knew. But I had no idea they were experimenting on me during the treatment. It explained why they wanted an update on any residual symptoms. "Did my parents know. I asked. "I-I've already said to much. Just know this, you are most likely being watched. the nurse whispered and left, looking over her shoulder. I left the hospital and drove to the woods, parking at a diner up the road, in between two cars so that it wouldn't be noticeable. I didn't exit the car right away because my mind was besieged with questions. Why would my parents allow me to be experimented on during the treatment? Why didn't they tell me? I didn't feel like talking to them after they had been so deceptive. I was angry. Angry and confused. The visions emerged again, this time of Charlie and someone around my age. A woman. Charlie lunged at her and killed her in a bloody fashion. The old man just stood there. "Sarah. I said to myself involuntarily. I had only been bitten by Charlie. Sarah had been lethally mauled by the thing. The anger bubbled up in me. I had to do something. I looked around. I was next to a cop car. No one inside. I got out, glanced in all directions, making sure the cop wasn't coming back to his car. I pulled out the shotgun from the backseat and hurried into the woods behind the diner. It took me over an hour before I found the old man's cabin. Charlie was just sitting there, frothing at the mouth, staring at my gun. The old man was chopping wood on a stump near the cabin. Eventually, he turned around and noticed me. He brandished the ax and smiled, walking over to me. "I don't believe I got your name. I said. "I'd like to know the name of the man I'm going to shoot. The old man smiled, and for the first time I noticed that he had several teeth missing. "Harvey. the old man said, spitting onto the ground. "Guess you finally remembered, huh? You gonna spend the rest of your life behind bars because of revenge. He held up his hands. Then I heard Charlie growling behind me. I turned around, and stared at its frothy mouth and beady, darkly aggressive eyes. I wondered why the dog retained its aggressiveness since mine waned, and I had become civilized again. Maybe it had always been that way. Charlie took several steps forward, growling. It lunged and I fired the shotgun, the harsh sound reverberating through the woods. Charlie lay dead on the ground, but I couldn't dwell on the fact that I had killed him. I had bigger fish to fry. I did my best to navigate the woods, looking for the stream and following it to the cave the old man- Harvey- had shown me. Inside the cave, I couldn't see anything until the glowing eyes of the wolf creature emerged from the small opening like before. Then I could see Harvey's bloodied body on the ground, eyes vacant yet somehow still disturbed. As soon as I saw the snake-like body of the wolf emerge in its entirety, I panicked and ran back through the narrow tunnel, alongside the stream, and through the woods. The cop car beside mine had left, and I wondered if they even noticed the shotgun had been stolen from their backseat. I left it in that cave, hoping no one would ever find it. I drove home in a daze. My parents didn't find out what I was doing, and I didn't want to let them know that I knew about my coma experiments. I still found that very fucking weird. Sleep walking at night and then getting back into the hospital bed, slipping back into the coma. In my room, I tried to shake off the harrowing events. I hoped the cops wouldn't find the dead dog in the woods, but my guess was that they wouldn't investigate its death too much, seeing as how its owner wouldn't report it. Then I glimpsed the yellow wolf's eyes from my closet. It just sat there, frothing at the mouth. I wasn't sure how it got in there without my parents noticing. I've had many encounters with the wolf creature since then, and it is telling me through mind-speak to go the hospital and erase the reports on the experiments the doctors conducted on me. And to remove the blood samples. I asked it once what would happen to me if I didn't obey. It told me I didn't want to know. I thought of of myself as brave man considering what I did in the woods that day, but this creature still terrifies me like nothing else.

I like this song very much. So much passion, amazing! 12 Points from germany. Hello! So a little description before I start. I wanted to make this post because I see a lot of redundancy in the sub. Also because of this post. There's nothing wrong with asking a question! Its just with so many of the same things being said, it starts to get a little ridiculous. Wanted to give you guys some info. Im currently starting classes again and moving, so any updates to this post may be delayed. I am still working on the post listing what is discussed in the interviews but that has been sidelined since that is not my #1 priority. So please bare with me! Thank you <3 In this post I am gonna go over a couple of things: Frequently asked questions/topics regarding Greg and Kai. Youtube behavior Twitter behavior Familial behavior Chris Hansen (and co. interviews. Links to the videos Information on the interviews. Frequently asked questions/topics regarding Greg and Kai Who exactly is Greg/Kai. What is going on? This post made by u/snallygaster goes over what kind of people Greg and Kai are as well as what they have done. Are Greg's freak out videos real. Is he trying to get an insanity plea? Greg has stated himself that these videos are not real. We can speculate, and probably be right, about how he actually feels towards the whole situation, but we don't really know what he thinks. It could be possible that that is what he was going for but he would not be able to get it. What is more likely is with so many people interested the whole thing, he is getting more and more attention. Whether it be positive or negative, attention is attention. Here is a very good article about the statistics and history of the insanity defense. Where can I watch Greg's videos without giving him views? If you are on your desktop, there are two links in the side bar, as well as a tab at the top of the sub that has mirrors. If you are on mobile, the links are this and this. I do wanna put a disclaimer: DO NOT WATCH VIDEOS THAT ARE ON HIS CHANNEL. Don't even comment or dislike. Because of youtube's algorithm, user interaction plays a big part if someone's video gets recommended. Whose name's are at the end of Greg's videos? So those names are the people who have a special perk that have donated the amount required. u/cpink1022 had the info so thank you! Sock accounts There have been many instances of suspicious accounts that seem to actually be Greg. If you think you are interacting with one of his sock accounts: report, block, and move on with your day. Here is a post from Onision Unprivated that put it perfectly. Understand that there are still fans of the both of them. It is mind boggling, but there is no reason to harass them. If we were to begin to send had towards them, we would be no better then Greg. Where did Kai go? I think around the time Chris Hansen publicly started to investigate the both of them, Kai went quiet on all of his social media. Recently, on Dec. 21st 2019, Kai posted this on his patreon page. Their kids/extended family Greg and Kai usually do not show their kids. Both of the children are minors, so for their own safety, please do not give out their names, any screen grabs you may have of them, the place that they live (town, address, etc. or any other sensitive information. While the kids are connected to Greg and Kai, they are not the ones being investigated. It is a sad that they are caught up in all of this, but do not call CPS or local police departments. Since a federal investigation is going on, authorities - as well as regular citizens - are most likely keeping a close eye on them. In regards to Kai's family and their relationship with Greg, here is some info from The Life of Onion website. Are Greg and Kai divorced? As of right now, they are not. I looked into it and the only instances I found were either from Greg's own videos, or when the whole Billie situation happened where he and Kai took some time apart. In his video Dissolution, Greg holds up divorce papers and says a "certain someone" gave them to him. These papers are actually Florida jurisdiction divorce papers. His videos are not actually real so I would take Greg's words with a grain of salt. Greg in court? This post by the head mod u/draugrz explains what happened. It should be noted the case is not Greg/Kai being served. Chris Hansen (and co. interviews The order I am doing this list is going off of Chris's interviews. If someone had been interviewed by multiple people, I will put those interviews in chronological order. Blaire White and Onision Debate Streamed July 19th, 2017 1 hour and 20 minutes Blaire White and Onision 2nd Debate Streamed June 3rd, 2018 2 hours 10 minutes Chris Hansen Interview of Blaire White Streamed October 16th, 2019 46 minutes Chris Hansen Interview of Repzion Streamed October 23rd, 2019 41 minutes Description. Daniel goes by Repzion. He has been creating social commentary video for 9 years on Youtube covering activism, religion, film reviews, but most of all, questionable and dangerous Youtube personalities. He has created over 1400+ videos and on his Youtube channel he claims himself as a true, Jack Of All Trades. There is nothing he will not cover. Repzions channel garnered over 130 million views over the last decade. First Interview of Sarah Streamed August 24th, 2019 1 hour and 35 minutes Blaire White Interview on Sarah Posted September 5th, 2019 10 minutes (other content besides the interview) Pinned comment by Blaire. Sarah told me before we after the interview that she now has years of psychological damage to unpack and issues caused by Greg and Kai's abuse and grooming. I commend her for coming on to discuss this, and I encourage you all to show her nothing but kindness and empathy. Chris Hansen Interview of Sarah Streamed October 30th, 2019 1 hour Description. Tonight we will Have Sarah tell her story and how she was victimized by Onision (Gregory Jackson) and his spouse Kai. Chris Hansen Interview with Shiloh Streamed November 6th, 2019 1 hour 15 minutes Description: Tonight we will Have Shiloh tell her story and how she was victimized by Onision (Gregory Jackson) and his spouse Kai. Shiloh previously known as Shiloh (currently performing under the stage name Doll) is a Canadian pop singer and songwriter. Shiloh has performed with Stereos, Hedley, Marianas Trench, and Faber Drive. She also has a Mezzo-Soprano vocal range. Chris Hansen Interview of Regina Streamed November 13th, 2019 1 hour Description: Tonight we will Have Regina tell their story and how they were victimized by Kai Anderson and Onision (Gregory Jackson) Kai Elaine Avaroe (born Taylor Elaine Anderson) is the husband of controversial youtuber James Jackson, known for his channel identity "Onision. He had been known as Lainey for many years and recently transitioned to being male. Edwins Generation Interview of Regina Posted November 16th, 2019 26 minutes Pinned comment by Edwin. Last month I interviewed Regina about their experience with Kai as a friend and girlfriend - or at least that's what Regina was led to believe. Their friendship began when Kai was 18 and Regina was 15 and that is also when Kai's suggestive comments and flirting - or as Kai calls it "banter. towards Regina began. Chris Hansen Interview of Billie Streamed November 20th, 2019 56 minutes Description. Tonight we will Have Billie tell her story and how she witnessed the abuse by Kai Anderson and Onision (Gregory Jackson. Billie was present during the abuse of Sarah. The relationship between Greg and Kai when they both requested Billie to come to their house and live together! Tune in tonight for the story right here on Have a Seat With Chris Hansen. Important note: First mention of FBI investigating Greg. Chris Hansen Interview of Haylee Streamed November 27th, 2019 55 minutes Description. Tonight we will Have Haylee tell her story and how she was pressured and manipulated by Kai Anderson and Onision (Gregory Jackson) Tune in to hear Halyee's story. Chris Hansen Interview of Ayalla Karina Streamed December 4th, 2019 1 hour 13 minutes Chris Hansen Interview of RagReynolds Streamed December 11th, 2019 1 hour Description. Tonight we will take you inside and talk about what has been going on in the Onision Forums. Chris Hansen Interview of Lane Streamed December 18th, 2019 39 minutes Description. Tonight we will have Lane on the show to talk about Onision and Kai. Lane has a lot to talk about! She will walk us through in detail on her interactions with Onision AKA Gregory Jackson and Kai AKA Elaine Anderson. Chris Hansen Interview of Adam Streamed December 26th, 2019 52 minutes Descriptions. Tonight we will have Adam on the show to talk about Kai. Adam and Kai had an online relationship when Adam was just 17 years of age. Kai was persistent on bringing the relationship to the real world. When Adam said he was only interested in Kai and not Onision, things went south. tune in tonight at 8PM EST to hear Adam's Story. Chris Hansen Interview of Beck Streamed January 2nd, 2020 56 minutes Chris Hansen Interview ft. Erica and Mike Morse Streamed January 9th, 2020 44 minutes long Full 911 audio: Onision calls police on Chris Hansen 5 minutes 30 seconds Uploaded January 13th, 2020 Not an interview but thought it should be added Chris Hansen Interview of Jaclyn Glenn Streamed January 16th, 2020 1 hour 16 minutes Description. Tonight's Guest is Jaclyn Glenn. She will be talking about her past collaborations with Onision and the nightmares she went through while working with Onision. Chris Hansen Interview of Stevie Wolfe Streamed January 22nd, 2020 1 hour 16 minutes Description: Stevie is a commentator who has been following, commenting on, and archiving Onisions actions for a long time. He was one of the first people who started speaking out against Onision and witnessed a lot of Onisions problematic behavior first hand. Inside the Onision situation Streamed January 29th, 2020 40 minutes Description: “This evening Chris sits down with Ed Troyer of the Pierce county sheriffs department, Regina, and Attorney Mike Morse. ”. I will be editing this post regularly to keep the information up to date. If any of the links to twitter, youtube, etc. have been deleted, please feel free to tell me so I can replace it. If you have any questions for this post, please ask.

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The 36 hour day. Not a Happy Madison production? I cant remember the last time Ive seen him in one of his own. unless Murder Mystery was one. 🤔Anyhow, Al Pacino, Al Pacino, blah, blah, blah. Hes his own person. Looks good. Moving help by the hour. The wolf sculptures. Alright, so I'm starting a project. I want r/d100 to help me create a series of tables wich include weather, herbs, and random encounters. Today we start with Forest encounters, specificly Boreal forests. These tables I seek to make will be somewhat specific, ranging from boreal forests to badlands, savanhas, cold bogs and hot swamps. All sorts of places. Anyways, for it to logically fit into this list, rare things should be rare. This means, dragons and such probably wont pop up much. This was one of the problems with the Xanathar's tables (1d3 dragons, really. Another problem was reusability. The tables where hard to reuse because of very specific events that appear (such as the army of dwarves requesting a toll, boulder in ground, etc. Encounters should be flexable/reusable. This is intended for low to mid level parties, but I am punishing to my party so it doesnt matter too much Example 1: 1d10 orcs Example 2: 1d6 + 2 wolves Example 3: Traveling merchant Example 4: Forester ( Probably commoner. 1d6 wolves Example 5: Brown bear (20% chance of 1d3 cubs) Disclaimer: The results are currently unedited. I will, once done, make an edited table and an unedited table. 1d100 Result Credit 1 A group of 1d6+4 myconids decomposing a dead moose. Could potentially be negotiated with, may get defensive u/SpiffyMcAwesome 2 Willowisps that try to lure PCs off the standard path. Will likely either hunt or lead into natural hazards. u/SpiffyMcAwesome 3 A group of mixed Fey (with fey such as pixie, a satyr, a quickling, a red cap, or your choice) that begin following the party and playing increasingly dangerous tricks on the PCs. u/SpiffyMcAwesome 4 Dryads pretending to be ghosts/etc using their tree teleportation, minor magic and general stealth to scare the PCs or any other hostiles u/SpiffyMcAwesome 5 The party stumbles into a pitch black region of the forest as a combination of the time of day and extreme foliage cover. Either something lies in ambush, a chance to get lost or a chance to fall into a ravine, etc u/SpiffyMcAwesome 6 Party comes to a clearing full of bodies, old remains or signs of combat/habitation. Sprinkle in foreshadowing for whatever planned encounter you have coming up. Chance to make associated checks to learn something. May be able to find an item or clue. u/SpiffyMcAwesome 7 Patch of Noxberries, light green berries that cause poisoned or a level of exhaustion (whatever dm likes. Knowledge nature or survival check to know and maybe be able to put them to use against enemies later u/SpiffyMcAwesome 8 analgesia and potential addiction/withdrawal. Potentially could make it being cultivated by either humanoid drug dealers or fey for personal use (ab checks to see signs of cultivation, tapping of trees, nearby footprints, or nearby cabin/camp. Or make a large creature of choice addicted to it and mad the PCs are around. u/SpiffyMcAwesome 9 PCs lead off path to a clearing with a primitive table (or just stump) set with a lavish feast. Make the area as inviting as you like. Perception to note the clearing is surrounded by a circle of mushrooms. Eating or resting in the grove gives Fey of choice (fairies classically) sway over you (either charm, geas, compulsion to owe favor or give a gift, or just social expectation from the fey leading to conflict if ignored. u/SpiffyMcAwesome 10 Wildfire from dry season, lightning strike or purposeful or accidental arson. Possible hooks from there are a resulting stampede of fleeing creatures, fire penning in PCs blocking path or lightly railroading them, druid, elven or fey firefighters asking for help. u/SpiffyMcAwesome 11 Sentient Brambles blocking the path, looking to ruin someone's day, keeping things out, or because it's recently fertilized (or wants to be) makes a deal to allow passage... but there's a catch. u/MaxSizeIs 12 Mild Weather. Dappled light filters through the trees as a mild zephyr rustles the tree tops. None of the airflow makes it's way down here though. u/MaxSizeIs 13 The Rusting Hulk of some otherworld's "future/retro/modern" civilization. Maybe it's the ruins of a magical ice-cream truck automaton, playing creepy music (but providing a free Minor healing potion's worth of respite to the players) maybe just a fiberglass fishing boat full of otherworld mundane loot (magazines, gewgaws, etc) with a tree growing around it, twenty feet in the air. u/MaxSizeIs 14 A Patch of 1d6 Ripe Briarberries. DC13 DEX to pick without being injured or dropping a berry. Fail: Choose to either take damage or drop a berry (triggering effect) then Flip a a coin, if you lose, both happen. If you succeed, only the bad thing you chose happens. Ripe Berries may be harvested and preserved by a knowledgeable person (DC15, the berries are preserved for a year, otherwise they decay in a week. When a thrown berry hits a patch of ground, roll a d6. On a 1, the berry does not sprout. On a 6, the berry sprouts instantly and casts its effect as if it were a 12th level magic user. On any other number, the berry sprouts at the end of the round and casts as if it were a level twice that rolled on the die. A briar berry may cast (chosen by the thrower, or at random if no thrower) either 1 casting of Entangle, for up to 1 minute, or Grasping Vine (if it is a high enough caster level) for up to 1 minute. A berry's grasping vine attacks targets in the area of effect randomly. A berry never sprouts in an area where either of the two spells are currently in effect. u/MaxSizeIs 15 Boltspines Carnivourous plants with hair triggers, capable of flinging a crossbow bolt sized spine as per a light crossbow (damage and range) to stop prey in its tracks. A patch of ripe Boltspines are capable of shooting 1d4 spines (at DISADV) at any target within 30 feet, each round roll 1d6, on a 4 or greater it regains 1d2 spines. The spines have a DC12 poison with the effect of the spell Sleep. If a target sleeps near the boltspine, it will move to Entangle the target and then Inflict Wounds as a 5th level Caster, every 1d3 rounds until the target is dead. A talented person may harvest spines or thier poison (DC15, keeps for 1 month, on failure lasts 1 day) u/MaxSizeIs 16 Shadow Hounds Perhaps phantasms cast by some strange quirk of the topology, or an ancient buried artifact, the area actively works to keep things away, claiming a 4 square mile area. The area starts slow, trying to creep or warn outsiders away, but each hour intruders spend inside the protected zone, the defenses ratchet inexorably upwards until active measures are required. At first, it uses Ghost Sound, Silent Image, Unseen Servant, and Minor Illusion (As if it were a 12th level caster) to try and spook intruders. After an hour, available light in the area dims by 1 step. By hour 2, even bright light is dim, amd direct sunlight only counts as bright. At night, areas of normal darkness become magical darkness, and all lightsources only cast dim light. By hour 3, the Baying starts. When a all creatures within a 300-foot area who are not evil outsiders must succeed at a wisdom save (DC 13) or be panicked. By hour 4, a Shadow Mastiff appears, following or threatening the party, but not attacking unless directly threatened. By hour 5, a Second Mastiff appears, and will attack if the party stops moving or moves closer to the center. By hour 6, if the players havent gotten the hint, all hell breaks loose. u/MaxSizeIs 17 The Inscessant Rain It doesn't stop; raining, drizzling, misting, then suddenly pouring, then raining again... the rain even falls up at times, seeming to get past any and all windbreaks and shelters, drenching everyone and dowsing all but the largest of fires. Small streams become nearly unfordable torrents, and trails become slick and impassible. Vehicles and wagons become hopelessly mired and cannot move more than 1/4 speed. Some trees are unstable in these conditions and may uproot, falling dangerously or blocking the trail. u/MaxSizeIs 18 The Long Rain Inspired by the sci-fi horror story by Ray Bradbury; The rain never stops, and plantlife is deadly, beautiful, and features supercharged growth. Sleeping in the area is apt to prompt night-time hallucinations, Madness, Exhaustion, and if one survives that, one might awaken Entangled (as cast by a level 10 caster, with unlimited duration) and having vines burrow into them similar to a Swarm of Rot Grubs (CL 1/2. Mounts will definitely try to flee this area and also suffer the same fate, going mad, being entangled, and swarmed. To avoid going mad or losing hope, one must make a WILL save DC 13 (each hour, fail: 1 point of exhaustion; on a success immune to this effect for 8 hours or until the end of your next long rest, whichever is sooner. u/MaxSizeIs 19 The Thunder Bad weather strikes near where the party is. Nature DC13, Yo! This is Dangerous Terrain. gain ADV on check for lightning safety and survival. Survival DC15: Finding a safe place to wait out the storm; avoiding the lightning blast. Staying in the area results in a lightning strike affecting up to 1d6 spread out targets at random or all targets within 30 feet of a single point. Lightning strike: 3d6 damage, DEX save DC 15, half damage. u/MaxSizeIs 20 The Oppressive Fog As thick as pea soup, the fog blocks vision greater than 1d3x10 feet away, and at times as little as 5 feet away. The dampness accelerates food and supplies rotting Survival Check DC12 or half of your rations, torches, gunpowder, and perishable supplies (worth less than 100gp) are permanently unuseable. Stay Close to a known trail and your buddies, or you may become lost. For even more opression, the DM may make the fog magical, acting actively to seperate and confuse you from the path. u/MaxSizeIs 21 The Silent Vale a square mile with permanent Silence in the area. If the effect is dispelled in an area, it returns to strength within 1d4 rounds. The plants and trees in the area have the pall of a funeral and an mournful, contemplative, depressed aura; and small woodland creatures and insects actively avoid the area. u/MaxSizeIs 22 A Quiet Place: If they hear you, they hunt you. Total silence is necessary to avoid mysterious creatures that hunt by sound. Know that even the slightest whisper or footstep can bring death. The environment seems to make all Stealth checks at DISADV unless a knowledgable woodsguide assists. (Nature, DC13) u/MaxSizeIs 23 Madame Butterfly's Revenge, a beautiful, haunting spectre traps and craves revenge; re-enacting the tragic abandonment and betrayal at the hands of thier lover. Transforming the forest into a magical opera-set at night, and trapping the party in a magical time-warp. A party member gets "chosen" to play Pinkerton, and the beautiful haunt tries to kill everyone unless the script is followed; and then commits operatic suicide, and then tries to kill Pinkerton (if the script is followed, by turning into an even more horrific spectre) Finding "the child" which takes the place of an relatively expensive item (worth up to 1000 gold) or npc in the players party, goes a long way to mollifying the spirit, and banishing it magically for up to a year and a day is possible. Permanently banishing the haunting requires a much more in depth ritual solution that is also fraught with grave danger. u/MaxSizeIs 24 Swarm of Stirges Pretty simple, they try to drain the party and mounts dry. It may be unusual for there to be so many, perhaps an cave entrance has opened, or the water table rises and areas of forest are now swampy, maybe an evil presence is breeding and attacting them. u/MaxSizeIs 25 Hidden Sinkholes Some quirk of the local water table has undermined the trail, leading to Goonies style cave-slide to small underground dungeon complex. u/MaxSizeIs 26 Forest Fisher A Higher CL variant of the Cave Fisher. It gains an extra Hitdie, the Giant Spider's Bite (It can't use it's Fisher and Spider Attacks in the same round) and Web Abilities (But only against Medium or Smaller Creatures) and the ability to Hide (Stealth) as a Bonus Action using it's color changing hide. If a targeted creature cannot discern where the Fisher is, it is at DISADV to avoid either its Rope, or it's Web attacks. u/MaxSizeIs 27 Capricious Magical Woodland Critter A tiny creature is an absolute shit; being too cute, it strikes up conversation. The DM might add in a twist: The talking is a distraction while other fellow creatures steals something valuable from the players (100-1000gp. They're almost always able to keep ahead of the players and lead them on a chase past a number of dangerous obstacles. At some point they hide the object and continue to lead the players away on some sort of trick, an INT check is required to realize where along the path they stashed it. To save its skin, the creature is willing to oversell the presence of an undiscovered trasure cache in the area, but it too is dangerous to get to. u/MaxSizeIs 28 Ford a Stream An old forest bridge washed out. Vehicles aren't able to cross the stream easily. Mounts can simply wade through it; though there may be an underwater danger taking advantage of potential prey. u/MaxSizeIs 29 Don't Go In the Water Crossing a Stream while a Bridge is out, the Players may find a Kelpie CL4 has taken residence. It may be that this Kelpie has some allies, and is able to dupe people into coming close enough to attack. Perhaps a wagon with a broken wheel is mired at the water's edge and it pretends to be a farmer needing help. To keep the Kelpie from being overwhelmed, add in some "Kelpling Minions" by making 1d4 Kelpies with only 1 hit die, halving all attack damage, and lowering the DC's of all thier abilities by 3. These can pretend to be the farmer's lovely family, or the nag oulling the trapped wagon. u/MaxSizeIs 30 Bully for Bullywugs They've taken up residence in a muddy small hillside cave with an underground spring and are raising thier tadpoles there. A forest raiding party is hunting and encounters the players. The cave has an tight entrance to the shallow Underdark. u/MaxSizeIs 31 The Forest Hot-Springs Episode Maybe the spring has healing properties, maybe it doesn't. There might be an injured Owlbear or troop of Rabid Forest Apes squatting nearby. u/MaxSizeIs 32 Signs of Owlbear Scratched trees with the bark ripped off, twenty feet in the air. Piles of slimy droppings with bones in them. Don't disturb one near thier kill, and dont get between one and thier chick. u/MaxSizeIs 33 A strange mound of earth, stacks of stones, ancient trees have their roots mingled throughout. A DC 19 investigation check will reveal an ancient stone door marking the burial mound of a long dead clan of hill dwarves. The door warns of a curse to all who disturb their eternal slumber. u/Cthulhu669 34 A small clearing, what the party first perceived as a a group ancient malformed stumps is actually an elderly man, the stump in front of him has a game board carved into it with pieces waiting, and a lot cut into a chair a crossed from him. Play a game of chess, who knows maybe the man knows much and will only answer questions based on captured pieces. (There is an ancient Viking board game that would be good for this as well I think it is called Kings corner. I will update when I find the games name. u/Cthulhu669 35 A bird poops on an adventurer giving them disadvantage on all stealth checks until they clean themselves u/Graveyard_Girl 36 Person at the front of the order falls into a hidden pit DC15 Dex check or 1D8 bludgeoning damage. If they fall into the pit they have to make an athletics check to escape or the group has to find a way to get them out. u/Graveyard_Girl 37 Shrine to nature spirits - If the party doesnt make an offering, a great storm prevents them from travelling any further that day. u/Graveyard_Girl 38 A group of excited gnomes bounce past the party. If the party is polite to them, one gives them a useless gizmo that makes a chirping noise when wound up. u/Graveyard_Girl 39 A flower girl skips down the path towards the party, but disappears before she reaches them. u/Graveyard_Girl 40 A cupcake lays in the middle of the road. If the party approaches, they trigger a pitfall into spikes. 3D6 piercing damage. u/Graveyard_Girl 41 A dung beetle pushes a ball across the road. If disturbs, it bursts into a pink pleasant smelling cloud, heals 1d4 hit points and gives the play advantage on their next roll. u/Graveyard_Girl 42 A Siberian tiger. A carnivorous tiger in a coniferous taiga. u/FirstChAoS 43 A herd of caribou cross the road ahead of you. u/FirstChAoS 44 A cold stream full of char (trout) u/FirstChAoS 45 A belligerent moose stands in the road, back off or be attacked! u/FirstChAoS 46 A giant fisher or marten (use giant weasel stats) attacks. u/FirstChAoS 47 A giant owl or an owlbear who is based on a boreal owl, hawk owl, or great grey owl. u/FirstChAoS 48 A porcupine sluggishly crosses the road. u/FirstChAoS 49 A snowshoe hare darts across the trail. u/FirstChAoS 50 Wolves howl in the distance. It sounds like they are getting closer though. u/FirstChAoS 51 A cold bog where the entrancing smell of giant pitcher plants lure you into their funnels. u/FirstChAoS 52 A monster lurks under the cold bogs sphagnum mats waiting to burst through and snatch a PC u/FirstChAoS 53 A shambling mound made of moss with the occasional cranberry bush or spruce sapling growing from its form. u/FirstChAoS 54 Dire lemmings! u/FirstChAoS 55 A giant eagle soars overhead, does he see you? u/FirstChAoS 56 You hear boreal chickadees scolding a predator? Is it only a danger to small birds or can it attack you as well? u/FirstChAoS 57 A grey jay steals your rations. It can be hand fed and easily made an animal companion or familiar. u/FirstChAoS 58 A bear! u/FirstChAoS 59 A wood frog based bullywug frozen solid but still alive. u/FirstChAoS 60 A flock of crossbills eating conifer seeds distracts you. u/FirstChAoS 61 A very tame seeming spruce grouse approaches the party. Is their something not as it seems with this foolish bird? u/FirstChAoS 62 A giant ermine (Weasel) u/FirstChAoS 63 A hungry wolverine approaches u/FirstChAoS 64 Example 1: 1d10 orcs u/MalarkTheMad 65 Example 2: 1d6 + 2 wolves u/MalarkTheMad 66 Example 3: Traveling merchant u/MalarkTheMad 67 Example 4: Forester ( Probably commoner. 1d6 wolves u/MalarkTheMad 68 Example 5: Brown bear (20% chance of 1d3 cubs) u/MalarkTheMad 69 3d4 bandits u/MalarkTheMad 70 1d4 + 2 bandits and bandit leader u/MalarkTheMad 71 2d6 Bugbears u/MalarkTheMad 72 1d3 sprites u/MalarkTheMad 73 Pixie u/MalarkTheMad 74 2d8 Odd travelers (Cultists) u/MalarkTheMad 75 1d3 Odd travelers (Berserker) u/MalarkTheMad 76 Odd traveler (Mage) u/MalarkTheMad 77 1d4 Will o Wisps at night (CR2. For thematic effect without overwhelming players, consider splitting 1 Will o Wisp into 2 subunits of 11 hp each, that can only perform an action every other round. (flip a coin to decide which one moves) u/MaxSizeIs 78 A Wight and 1d4 Zombies u/MaxSizeIs 79 A mighty fallen tree blocks the trail. Impassable to vehicles until removed. u/MaxSizeIs 80 A Shambling Mound. u/MaxSizeIs 81 Kobolds/Goblins in a Tree Fort City u/MaxSizeIs 82 1d2 Giant Trapdoor Spider, and 2d6 immature young in Large sized woven sacks in the Burrow, ready to emerge and help thier parent. (Young: use Giant Spider stats, with half the hitpoints each, but can only take an action every other turn. They gain Tremorsense 30 feet, Have Advantage on Stealth and Concealment checks, and have a Burrow speed (thru soil) of 20. The creature is not slowed or hindered while dragging any creature or object smaller than it. Adults are 1 size category larger than "Giant" spiders (Become Huge. 2 STR, 2 CON, 2 DEX, 2 WIS, Add 2 hitdice, increase CR by 1, and the Web ability can target 2 additional creatures within 10 feet of the first (at -2 to hit penalty beyond the first. u/MaxSizeIs 83 Muskeg: Sometimes, in the taiga, permafrost melts and forms a lake. Over hundreds of years, native plants and peat moss form a scum over top of it. This floating mat can have (stunted) trees growing on it, but the soil becomes extremely soggy and may not support the weight of a grown adult. Falling thru, and even drowning is possible. The forest grows around these small pockets of muck. u/MaxSizeIs 84 The Peatbog Treasure: Find a magic item on a very well preserved creature, that died in the small bog lake. u/MaxSizeIs 85 Trees carved with faces, totems, or symbols. u/MaxSizeIs 86 Humanoid heads on wooden pikes. u/MaxSizeIs 87 A humanoid trapped in an animal trap. 20% chance of lycanthropy. u/MaxSizeIs 88 A humanoid trapped in a gibbet cage. How the cage got there is unknown. u/MaxSizeIs 89 Humanoid remains on elevated platforms suspended in the trees. (Sky burial. 10% chance of finding magic item, by descrating. Additional 10% chance of undead encounter. u/MaxSizeIs 90 1d6 harpys u/MaxSizeIs 91 1d3 Hortlak, a type of Shadow Vampire u/MaxSizeIs 92 1d4 Elasmotherium plus 25% chance of 1d4 young. u/MaxSizeIs 93 A Lone Tlalusk; Giant Six Legged Wooley Horse with Razor Sharp Tusks and Horns. CR 11 (Youll have to convert the monster stats from 3. 5e) u/MaxSizeIs 94 1d6 berserkers u/MalarkTheMad 95 3d6 orcs u/MalarkTheMad 96 1d6 wolves + 1d8 berserkers u/MalarkTheMad 97 1d2 Scouts u/MalarkTheMad 98 Druid u/MalarkTheMad 99 2d4 bandits u/MalarkTheMad 100 Werebear u/MalarkTheMad Boreal Forest table - edited 1d10 orcs 1d6+2 wolves Traveling Merchant Forester ( Probably commoner. 1d6 wolves Brown bear (20% chance of 1d3 cubs) 1d3 pixie 1d6 corpses Wildfire! A Siberian tiger. A herd of caribou cross the road ahead of you. A cold stream full of char (trout) A belligerent moose stands in the road, back off or be attacked! A giant fisher or marten (use giant weasel stats. A giant owl An owlbear who is based on a boreal owl, hawk owl, or great grey owl. A porcupine sluggishly crosses the road. A snowshoe hare darts across the trail. Wolves howl in the distance. A cold bog where the entrancing smell of giant pitcher plants lure you into their funnels. Dire lemmings! A giant eagle soars overhead, does he see you? You hear boreal chickadees scolding a predator? Is it only a danger to small birds or can it attack you as well? Bear A flock of crossbills eating conifer seeds distracts you. A very tame seeming spruce grouse approaches A giant ermine (Weasel) A hungry wolverine approaches 3d4 bandits 1d4 + 2 bandits and bandit leader 2d6 Bugbears 1d3 sprites 2d8 Odd travelers (Cultists) 1d3 Odd travelers (Berserker) Odd traveler (Mage) 1d4 Will o Wisps at night A Wight and 1d4 Zombies A mighty fallen tree blocks the trail. Items or treasure in a bog (5% there is a corpse as well) Humanoid heads on wooden pikes. 1d6 harpys A humanoid trapped in an animal trap. 1d6 berserkers 1d6 wolves + 1d8 berserkers 1d2 scouts Druid 2d4 bandits 3d6 orcs Dense fog Lots of sphagnum (3% chance something waits beneath it…) Werewolf Shambling Mound Werebear A felled tree 1d4 foresters Traveling merchant + 2d4 hired guards (20% chance to use Thug stat block instead) as well as 2 mules An elk 3d4 giant spiders 2d4 giant wolf spiders A Satyr Dryad Treant 3d6 dwarves An elf 3d6 ghouls 2d6 ghouls + ghast 3d4 Cultists A veteran A traveling knight A Noble + 3d6 guards with (likely has horses and/or carriage) 4d4 tribal warriors 2d10 goblins Pseudo Dragon Troll Wraith 3d8 Direwolves 1d12 Deer Giant Badger Eagle Giant Goat Giant weasel 1d4 goats Mammoth Cave + cave bear Giant Saber Tooth Tiger Swarm of ravens Odd traveler (Bandit Captain) Odd travelers (Cult Fanatic + 1d4 cultists) Odd Traveler (Priest) Carrion Crawler 4d5 Centaur 1d4 cockatrice Cyclops 1d8 Ankheg Banshee Basilisk Bugbear chief + 2d4 Bugbear 1d3 Forest giant (hill giant, possibly smarter, may like riddles) Green hag Hippogriff Hydra.

0:57 That looks exactly like Walter on the left. You can see the bald head and the signature facial hair it seems. Wishful thinking maybe. The wolf hour soundtrack. Espero que Robert Pattison no la cague como Jared Leto.

 

Looks like they couldn't afford Liam Nelson. Goodbye Toby It's been nice Hope you find your Paradise 😂🌴. One of those movies that i wont watch. as far as i can see, not worth it. But ofc. thats my opinion. So good. Are we going to find out if huell is out of the room yet. The witching hour fabric. Austin movers by the hour. The wolf sculptures canada. The wolf hour movie. Moving companies by the hour. I swear Im not being that pedantic asshole neighbor. Noise ordinance starts at 10 pm and most people respect it because there are a lot of young kids in the neighborhood. But my neighbor across the street is remodeling his house and last Wednesday he started cutting things at 10:30 pm. It sounded like metal. A high, shrill whine that easily penetrated the walls of my house and doubtless carried throughout the nearby vicinity. I thought - okay - maybe hes running a little behind and desperately needs to get this done to meet some schedule. It is getting cold pretty fast, after all, or maybe hes got some professionals coming out and something needs to be done before then. I try to be a good neighbor and give people some tolerance. 11 pm rolled around. He kept working. That infernal screech, then a brief lull of silence. Each time he paused I thought that maybe he was done and I could go to bed and then hed start again. I wondered if I should call the police. I wondered if theyd even care. A noise complaint seems pretty trivial, especially since this was only one night. It wasnt like he had a habit of being noisy. That rationalization didnt make it any easier to sleep. I tossed in my bed for about thirty minutes before I gave up. I went to the living room to watch TV in the hopes thatd distract me enough to sleep. It didnt work. The screech of the saw cut right through the dialogue of the movie Id put on, shattering my idle concentration. The longer it went, the angrier I got. Then, around 12:30 am the noise stopped for a full fifteen minutes. I sat on my living room sofa, listening intently, hoping that I could finally get to sleep. Another shrill whine, somehow louder this time, and I jumped to my feet, threw the remote across the room, and screamed some profanities at the wall. I still didnt call the police. I wasnt ready for a confrontation. I was trying to be patient. But honestly, I was sort of hoping that someone else would be the one to call in a complaint. It was highly likely. Someone kept calling the police on another neighbor because they dont like how he parks his pickup truck with the trailer in front of his house. Which I think is ridiculous. He runs his own lawn care business. This isnt some hoity-toity white collar neighborhood with a HOA that tells you what color your slate shingles have to be so all the houses have a uniform look when viewed from the nearby golf course. Im so fucking tired. Im rambling. Shockingly, whoever they are, they didnt call the police. So I just dealt with the noise until 1 am, when it finally stopped for good. I messaged my coworkers something about my asshole neighbor and possibly being in late (the timestamp on the message would explain everything) and then I threw myself into bed and fell right asleep. I did pretty good the next day. Got up at my usual time through sheer habit and kept going with the help of coffee. Napped a little when I got home. I talked to my next-door neighbor (the one with the pickup with the trailer) when I went out to check the mail. Theyd been kept up by the noise too and were surprised no one complained. The neighbors right next door to the offender had a young kid, after all, who was surely unable to sleep through the racket. But we both agreed that it was probably a one-off occurrence and not worth a confrontation. It wasnt. The noise started around midnight. I was already asleep and the screech of an electric saw jerked me awake. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of my dark room, wondering what sort of suburban hell I was currently living in. Did I dare go over there and confront him? Risk souring the peaceful relationship I had with my neighbor? We werent friends but we werent enemies, either. Ive been here six years without problems. Id do it diplomatically, I thought. Explain why this was troublesome to me and then ask for his reason for working so late. Maybe suggest he do all the power tool work over the upcoming weekend. Or at the very least, find out how much longer hed be using the electric saw and decide if I could live with that and buy some ear plugs the next morning. I put on my shoes, got a jacket, and put my cellphone in my pocket. Then I went over. The garage door was up and his car was parked in the street, leaving the driveway and garage interior open. The overhead light was on and a small floodlight was positioned to further illuminate his workspace. The driveway shone with liquid, glassy under the streetlight, running out from the puddle on the garage floor and down to the gutter. This seemed odd, until I realized what he was cutting. Tile. He was using a wet saw. A stack of uncut tiles were stacked along the side of the garage. I waited until a lull in which he set aside the two pieces of tile and turned to pick up another. It was a large pile. How much of his house was he tiling, I wondered. We have the same floorplan. The bathrooms and kitchen are quite small. “Excuse me? ” I said into the silence. “I just wanted to ask how much longer youll be needing to use the saw. ” Start polite. Dont turn it into a confrontation right away. I cant tell you how glad I am, because after I spoke up, he turned around to face me and my insides seized up with cold terror. He wasnt human. Theres no other explanation. His body was human, his hands were human… but his head… like a wolf, almost. Pointed ears that were too perfectly triangular, devoid of hair, and the rest of the fur was short and bristly, like itd been scorched. I could see pale flesh beneath in the patches where it was worn away. The skull was flattened, like the entire thing had been compressed, squashing the eye sockets away into thin, black lines of folded flesh. The skin receded from the jaw, revealing white gums and ivory teeth that glistened and dripped with saliva. “Yes? ” he croaked at me, his jaw splitting open and there was no tongue and no throat, only an inky darkness inside. It took a moment before I could find my voice. He looked at me expectantly with eyes that werent there. “I just… the noise…” I stammered. “Well, I need to get this done, ” he replied defensively, gesturing vaguely at the tiles. My eyes instinctively tracked his hand and settled on the stack of uncut tile. The color was hideous. A fleshy pink interspersed with patches of darker red and an occasional straight line or knob of white. There was something disturbingly fascinating about the tile and I stared intently at it, trying to comprehend why its appearance seemed so familiar. Then he picked up one from the top of the stack and the one beneath blinked at me. An eyeball was positioned near one corner. It stared at me, wide-eyed, and the corners of the eyelid brimmed with tears that pooled on the smooth surface of compressed flesh and muscle and bone. I glanced down at the liquid at my feet. It shone red in the light of the garage. And then he put the tile on the saw and started the blade and I heard the scream of the saw and the scream of the mouth that was on the tile, shrieking in agony as he sliced it cleanly in half. He looked back up at me when that was done. I told him that it was fine, that Id just get some ear plugs and I hoped he was able to get through his remodeling quickly. Then I went home and didnt sleep for the rest of the night, alternating between dry heaving in the bathroom, sobbing, and screaming incoherently at the wall as that infernal saw went on and on and on. I guess I should have called the police but I confess I was not in a right state of mind. Morning came and I went to work only because I couldnt stand to remain in the neighborhood. I looked at the neighbors driveway as I backed my car out. It was still damp and muddy water pooled along the curb. No blood. It was all just a product of my sleep-deprived brain, I told myself. On the way home from work I bought some earplugs at the drugstore. Then I talked to my neighbor out by the mailbox again. He was thinking of having a word with the guy. I told him that was a terrible idea. Trust me, I said. Id already tried. There were no power tools on Friday, nor for the rest of the weekend. I was deeply relieved. Whatever was going on, it was surely over. I kept looking out the window all weekend, hoping to catch a glimpse of my neighbor, and I finally did on Sunday. He looked normal. His face was a human face. More and more, I convinced myself that Id imagined the entire thing. Maybe Id dozed off on my sofa and it was merely a hyper-realistic dream. Then on Monday, a stack of bricks was delivered to his driveway. And last night the saw started up again. I remained in my house and peeked out the window through the curtains. It was 11 pm. I could clearly see his triangular ears and the muzzle of his canine jaw. Id spent the weekend reading up on the noise ordinance laws so I knew we were well inside the applicable restrictions. All it would take was one phone call to the non-emergency line and an explanation that this was a consistent pattern now. I wouldnt even be that asshole neighbor by calling. He was the asshole. Then the next door neighbor - the one with a young kid - went over. I watched him, my breath tight in my chest. Hes a big dude with intricate full sleeve tattoos. Dresses as a Nazgûl every year to pass out candy for Halloween, complete with a sword. Seems nice. Hed double-checked some electrical work I did on my house earlier this year, but otherwise we didnt talk a lot. The tattooed neighbor was visibly taken aback when he approached. He stared at the wolf-man-thing a moment and they seemed to be talking. I couldnt hear what was being said, but the tattooed neighbor was growing more agitated as the conversation went on. He threw an arm out to point back at his house and it was clear he was yelling at that point. Perhaps he was also sleep-deprived and making bad choices as a result, because I wasnt sure Id have yelled at something clearly so inhuman. Or maybe thats just hindsight talking. I confess I felt some of his anger as I watched the scene. I just wanted a good nights sleep, for gods sake, and did he really have to be working on this damn project between the hours of 10 pm and 2 am? The neighbor with the saw turned his head away, as if in submission. The tattooed neighbor paused in his tirade. And in that brief respite the wolf-thing rose up, drew his shoulders back, and his neck seemed to elongate, the muscle rippling and bulging, and he opened his mouth so wide the lower jaw flapped like a broken hinge, and then he bit my neighbors head off. Blood fountained into the air, splattering over the saw, the bricks, and the garage as the body convulsed and then collapsed to the ground. I screamed and threw myself back away from the window. Then I was violently, horrifically sick as my entire body rebelled at the horror Id just seen. It took a while before I could recover enough to look again. I was shaky, my muscles weak from exhaustion and nausea. Trembling, I drew back enough of the curtain that I could see my neighbors garage. He was bent over the saw, running thick slabs of what seemed to be wood through it. My neighbors body was gone. I didnt recall there being wood in his garage earlier. Then he picked up another piece and positioned it and I saw that the whorls and rings in the wood looked like tattoos. He lowered the saw blade and blood poured forth, splattering on the ground and streaming down the driveway to the street. I called 911. Told them my neighbor has been using power tools late at night for a few days now and that my neighbor had gone over and Id heard fighting and I was worried someone had been hurt in the confrontation. They arrived quickly and I paced my living room, watching the lights of the police cruiser dance across the back wall. The officer didnt talk long. Then he came to my house, since Id reported it, and talked with me about what Id heard. I wasnt terribly coherent. I apologized, explaining that Id been unable to sleep through the noise. The officer was polite and told me there was no sign that the argument had escalated further than just some yelling. Hed given the neighbor a warning about noise and told him to knock it off. I asked if hed seen anything unusual. No, the officer said. He said I should get some sleep, I was clearly having a rough night. Then he left and I watched through the window as the neighbor closed the garage door, a half-cut tattooed plank still on the saw, slowly dripping blood from the open wound. My boss told me today that I should go home and sleep. I dont look well. My eyes are dark hollows in my face, ringed by blood spots from all that vomiting. Im dizzy from the lack of sleep. I refused. Im scared to go home. Im considering getting a realtor and just moving but then what would happen to the person that moved in? At least I know to stay the fuck away from the house across the street now. The police were back when I got home today. They were talking to the neighbor with the small child. The wife, this time. Her eyes were red from crying. I didnt have to overhear the conversation to know what was being said. Hes missing. He didnt come home. The police searched the neighbors house again, checking inside and checking the backyard and I watched it the entire time, desperately hoping that theyd find something. But they didnt, because they came and talked to me again, and I cried a bit and the detective was sympathetic and took notes of everything I said. I didnt say anything about the wolf-thing. I just said the neighbor went next door to complain about the power tools. I heard yelling. That was all. Its 10:30 pm right now. Ive been listening to the saw for the past half hour. Im too afraid to even look and see what hes cutting. The sound of the saw reminds me of screaming but I think that really is just my imagination this time. Ive tried putting in earplugs but its not enough, I can still faintly hear it and Im too anxious to sleep, knowing whats out there. Im getting a hotel room tomorrow night and every night until he finishes his damned remodeling.

The mountain wolf t shirt. The wolf hour movie trailer. The 13th hour book. This is part 4, Vol. 3 in a long series about direwolves. Per length, it's broken into multiple volumes. Other volumes as below: V1 (AGoT) V2 (ACoK) V4 (ADwD. Other posts in the series: Series posts: Part 1: Lady/Sansa, Part 2: Grey Wind/Robb, Part 3: Nymeria/Arya, Part 5: Shaggydog/Rickon, Part 6: Ghost/Jon A Storm of Swords – Summer and The Winged Wolf – Unchained In the third volume, now that Bran is unchained and has accepted his nature as a warg, we see him develop his skills with the help of Jojen.  He becomes so adept in Summers skin that he is able to save Jons life.  This shows his progress as a warg while serving to remind us of his empathy and the pack bond to Jon.  As a darker turn we also see him use this power over Hodor.  The development of these powers is unique to Bran among his siblings. Still, our other themes continue.  Summer continues to show his independence while being fiercely protective of Bran. Toward the end of the volume, Summer is twice separated from Bran resulting is near misses reminding us of the theme of bad things happening when the wolves are separated from the children (parallel to the final reminder for Grey Wind and Robb.   This might be a concern going forward.  Pack remains important; we get some direct wolf thoughts about the bond to the other direwolves from Summer, that he periodically senses his siblings.  This will be contrasted to similar thoughts we get in ADwD from Ghost. We start with a wolf dream.  Notice that the language of the first paragraphs seem to be more boy thoughts than wolf thoughts with a mention of specific tree species, while the thoughts become more wolfish as the dream continues.  As Summer begins to exert his own thoughts Bran still puts in his own ideas.  These deliberate warging adventures are much more a mind meld than when Bran was mostly riding along in Summer with the earlier wolf dreams. Note also that Summer climbs a hill, just as Ghost did in this same volume.  Are they trying to contact each other?  Count this one as pack behavior for sure. Once Summer begins to think of his sibling wolves though, Bran seems relegated to passenger, though.  I glean much from these thoughts though.  Summer can remember and feel his siblings, but we dont get any detail beyond him knowing that Lady is dead and Shaggy is close but getting farther.  He knows they are hunting, but we get no detail at all about Nymeria, Ghost and Grey Wind. Recall from my intro to Nymerias story that I believe Shaggy and Ghost to be stronger in the magic thats the other wolves, so it makes sense that Shaggy would be the easiest to sense (with Ghost beyond the wall, seemingly incommunicado) though this passage isnt strong proof of that idea, given that he is also in closer physical proximity. The final paragraph of the remembrance is awkward.  It seems that Summer is remembering Lady (or is it Nymeria. but I almost get the feeling that Bran is trying to assert his own thoughts at the same time, making the paragraph a bit hard to follow, possibly intentionally incoherent by our author trying to portray the dissimilar thoughts together, like trying to fit the wrong pieces of a puzzle together.  I definitely believe that the final line, “The wolf prince remembered, ” is a Bran thought. A Storm of Swords – Bran I The ridge slanted sharply from the earth, a long fold of stone and soil shaped like a claw. Trees clung to its lower slopes, pines and hawthorn and ash, but higher up the ground was bare, the ridgeline stark against the cloudy sky. He could feel the high stone calling him. Up he went, loping easy at first, then faster and higher, his strong legs eating up the incline. Birds burst from the branches overhead as he raced by, clawing and flapping their way into the sky. He could hear the wind sighing up amongst the leaves, the squirrels chittering to one another, even the sound a pinecone made as it tumbled to the forest floor. The smells were a song around him, a song that filled the good green flew from beneath his paws as he gained the last few feet to stand upon the crest. The sun hung above the tall pines huge and red, and below him the trees and hills went on and on as far as he could see or smell. A kite was circling far above, dark against the pink sky. Prince. The man-sound came into his head suddenly, yet he could feel the rightness of it. Prince of the green, prince of the wolfswood. He was strong and swift and fierce, and all that lived in the good green world went in fear of him. Far below, at the base of the woods, something moved amongst the trees. A flash of grey, quick-glimpsed and gone again, but it was enough to make his ears prick up. Down there beside a swift green brook, another form slipped by, running. Wolves, he knew. His little cousins, chasing down some prey. Now the prince could see more of them, shadows on fleet grey paws. A had a pack as well, once. Five they had been, and a sixth who stood aside. Somewhere down inside him were the sounds the men had given them to tell one from the other, but it was not by their sounds he knew them. He remembered their scents, his brothers and his sisters. They all had smelled alike, had smelled of pack, but each was different too. His angry brother with the hot green eyes was near, the prince felt, though he had not seen him for many hunts. Yet with every sun that set he grew more distant, and he had been the last. The others were far scattered, like leaves blown by the wild wind. Sometimes he could sense them, though, as if they were still with him, only hidden from his sight by a boulder or a stand of trees. He could not smell them, nor hear their howls by night, yet he felt their presence at his back. all but the sister they had lost. His tail drooped when he remembered her. Four now, not five. Four and one more, the white who has no woods belonged to them, the snowy slopes and stony hills, the great green pines and the golden leaf oaks, the rushing streams and blue lakes fringed with fingers of white frost. But his sister had left the wilds, to walk in the halls of man-rock where other hunters ruled, and once within those halls it was hard to find the path back out. The wolf prince remembered. The wind shifted suddenly. The next part of this chapter shows Summer in complete control.  The call of the hunt and the pack are strong themes still. With his pack is scattered, he immediately runs down his cousins pack and their prey.  It is reminiscent of when Summer and Grey Wind were not around to protect the boys from Stiv during a much earlier hunt; this is a weakness in the direwolves roles as protectors. Once he finds the wolves, Bran might have a quick thought about the lack of fear in the opponent, but then Summer seems to take over again in the fight.   Note the Summer easily kills the one wolf.  The savage act serves to remind how merciless these wolves are in battle. Deer, and fear, and blood. The scent of prey woke the hunger in him. The prince sniffed the air again, turning, and then he was off, bounding along the ridgetop with jaws half-parted. The far side of the ridge was steeper than the one hed come up, but he flew surefoot over stones and roots and rotting leaves, down the slope and through the trees, long strides eating up the ground. The scent pulled him onward, ever faster. The deer was down and dying when he reached her, ringed by eight of his small grey cousins. The heads of the pack had begun to feed, the male first and then his female, taking turns tearing flesh from the red underbelly of their prey. The others waited patiently, all but the tail, who paced in a wary circle a few strides from the rest, his own tail tucked low. He would eat the last of all, whatever his brothers left him. The prince was downwind, so they did not sense him until he leapt up upon a fallen log six strides from where they fed. The tail saw him first, gave a piteous whine, and slunk away. His pack brothers turned at the sound and bared their teeth, snarling, all but the head male and female. The direwolf answered the snarls with a low warning growl and showed them his own teeth. He was bigger than his cousins, twice the size of the scrawny tail, half again as large as the two pack heads. He leapt down into their midst, and three of them broke, melting away into the brush. Another came at him, teeth snapping. He met the attack head on, caught the wolfs leg in his jaws when they met, and flung him aside yelping and limping. And then there was only the head wolf to face, the great grey male with his bloody muzzle fresh from the preys soft belly. There was white on his muzzle as well, to mark him as an old wolf, but when his mouth opened, red slaver ran from his teeth. He has no fear, the prince thought, no more than me. It would be a good fight. They went for each other. Long they fought, rolling together over roots and stones and fallen leaves and the scattered entrails of the prey, tearing at each other with tooth and claw, breaking apart, circling each round the other, and bolting in to fight again. The prince was larger, and much the stronger, but his cousin had a pack. The female prowled around them closely, snuffing and snarling, and would interpose herself whenever her mate broke off bloodied. From time to time the other wolves would dart in as well, to snap at a leg or an ear when the prince was turned the other way. One angered him so much that he whirled in a black fury and tore out the attackers throat. After that the others kept their distance. And as the last red light was filtering through green boughs and golden, the old wolf lay down weary in the dirt, and rolled over to expose his throat and belly. It was submission. […] The prince sniffed at him and licked the blood from fur and torn flesh. When the old wolf gave a soft whimper, the direwolf turned away. He was very hungry now, and the prey was his. Then Jojen begins to try to wake Bran; Summer and Bran both are annoyed!  Jojen says Bran has been in the wolf too long, and he painstakingly talks about how Bran cant sustain himself solely by eating in the wolf.  The feeling of hunger in the boys body, while the wolf is sated must again be a bit confusing for Bran, but I kinda agree that Jojen is being stupid.  Depriving Bran of the satisfaction of eating after the hunt seems unnecessarily mean.  It would have annoyed me too. One would think Bran, once back in his body would feel hunger and choose to eat naturally.  As we discussed at the end of the prior volume, Bran wouldnt feel his appetite properly as a boy after the wold fed, but suppose Jojen would not know this.  I suppose Bran could be losing weight because of this issue. Illustrating my point, Bran after waking can still taste the deer. I believe he is sensing this through the bond.  Jon has similar experiences. u/Prof_Cecily on Reddit suggested to me that the group is starving here and they asked him about marking trees to solely to enable Meera to find the kill.  I doubt this to be the whole explanation.  If Meera is any kind of decent tracker she could do so without Bran giving unnatural signs, and this reason wasnt mentioned in the text.  Also, the group isnt mentioned as starving until the next chapter, when they leave the wood.  That said, they do explicitly say to have Summer bring a rabbit back uneaten, so hunting to feed the entire group is part of the requests. IMO it is also that Jojen is concerned with Bran asserting his own personality over Summer, not to be overwhelmed by the wolfs personality while warging.  The line “once he was a wolf they never seemed important, ” coupled with my above observations of the warging experience tells me that Brans thoughts are definitely overwhelmed by Summers, at least in part.  Is he concerned that Bran might lose some of his humanity, get lost in the wolfs mind, never to return to the boys body?  Perhaps, though the latter would be extreme. The sudden sound made him stop and snarl. The wolves regarded him with green and yellow eyes, bright with the last light of day. None of them had heard it. It was a queer wind that blew only in his ears. He buried his jaws in the deers belly and tore off a mouthful of flesh. […] No, he thought. No, I wont. It was a boys thought, not a direwolfs. The woods were darkening all about him, until only the shadows of the trees remained, and the glow of his cousins eyes. And through those and behind those eyes, he saw a big mans grinning face, and a stone vault whose walls were spotted with niter. The rich warm taste of blood faded on his tongue. No, dont, dont, I want to eat, I want to, I want. …]The woods and wolves were gone. Bran was back again, down in the damp vault of some ancient watchtower that must have been abandoned thousands of years before. It wasnt much of a tower now. Even the tumbled stones were so overgrown with moss and ivy that you could hardly see them until you were right on top of them. “Tumbledown Tower, ” Bran had named the place; it was Meera who found the way down into the vault, however. “You were gone too long. ” Jojen Reed was thirteen, only four years older than Bran. Jojen wasnt much bigger either, no more than two inches or maybe three, but he had a solemn way of talking that made him seem older and wiser than he really was. At Winterfell, Old Nan had dubbed him “little grandfather. ”Bran frowned at him. “I wanted to eat. ” […] “Im sick of frogs. ” Meera was a frogeater from the Neck, so Bran couldnt really blame her for catching so many frogs, he supposed, but even so. “I wanted to eat the deer. ” For a moment he remembered the taste of it, the blood and the raw rich meat, and his mouth watered. I won the fight for it. I won. “ Did you mark the trees? ” Bran flushed. Jojen was always telling him to do things when he opened his third eye and put on Summers skin. To claw the bark of a tree, to catch a rabbit and bring it back in his jaws uneaten, to push some rocks in a line. Stupid things. “I forgot, ” he said. […] It was true. He meant to do the things that Jojen asked, but once he was a wolf they never seemed important. There were always things to see and things to smell, a whole green world to hunt. And he could run! There was nothing better than running, unless it was running after prey. “I was a prince, Jojen, ” he told the older boy. “I was the prince of the woods. ” The next exchange continues the idea that Bran needs to exert his own will while warging; he insists that Bran audibly delineate that he and Summer are separate entities.  Even so, the bond seems to be extremely strong now, as Bran immediately says “and one” directly after saying they are two individuals. Later, Bran muses that Jojen is a bit clueless about not being able to recognize Summers howl.  Note that Bran probably hears Summer;s howls internally at this point, as Arya and Jon have similar experiences in this volume.  Bran also thinks about how far Summer went, confirming 2 things 1) that Bran definitely is fully conscious and able to remember all of the time while in Summer, and 2) that he could likely lead them to the kill if the need for meat that were the sole reason for marking trees / etc. To continue that point, the exchange concludes with Jojen worrying specifically about Bran remaining forever in Summer.   This solidifies for me that these “lessons” from Jojen are mostly about Bran learning to exert his will more than they are about hunting.   also wonder if Shaggydog and Rickon will have a similar issue.  It might not go as well without someone like Jojen to mentor him. “And who is Summer? ” Jojen prompted. “My direwolf. ” He smiled. “Prince of the green. ” “Bran the boy and Summer the wolf. You are two, then? ” “ Two, ” he sighed, “and one. ” He hated Jojen when he got stupid like this. At Winterfell he wanted me to dream my wolf dreams, and now that I know how hes always calling me back. […] Before Meera could find a reply to that, they heard the sound; the distant howl of a wolf, drifting through the night. “Summer? ” asked Jojen, listening. “No. ” Bran knew the voice of his direwolf. “Are you certain? ” said the little grandfather. “Certain. ”  Summer had wandered far afield today, and would not be back till dawn. Maybe Jojen dreams green, but he cant tell a wolf from a direwolf. He wondered why they all listened to Jojen so much. He was not a prince like Bran, nor big and strong like Hodor, nor as good a hunter as Meera, yet somehow it was always Jojen telling them what to do. “We should steal horses like Meera wants, ” Bran said, “and ride to the Umbers up at Last Hearth. ” He thought a moment. “Or we could steal a boat and sail down the White Knife to White Harbor town. That fat Lord Manderly rules there, he was friendly at the harvest feast. He wanted to build ships. Maybe he built some, and we could sail to Riverrun and bring Robb home with all his army. Then it wouldnt matter who knew I was alive. Robb wouldnt let anyone hurt us. ” […] “Jojen, what did you mean about a teacher? ” Bran asked. “Youre my teacher. I know I never marked the tree, but I will the next time. My third eye is open like you wanted. ” “So wide open that I fear you may fall through it, and live all the rest of your days as a wolf of the woods. ” “I wont, I promise. ” “The boy promises. Will the wolf remember? You run with Summer, you hunt with him, kill with him. but you bend to his will more than him to yours. ” – ASoS – Bran I The next chapter starts by mentioning that they are hungry now, having moved into the mountains.  It then backtracks and then says that Summer was bringing them prey before they left the wood.  This indicates that Bran has been able assert his will to teach Summer to do that, so the lessons must have worked to some extent. A Storm of Swords – Bran II “ If we took the kingsroad we wouldnt be so hungry either, ” he started saying then. Down in the hills theyd had no lack of food. Meera was a fine huntress, and even better at taking fish from streams with her three-pronged frog spear. Bran liked to watch her, admiring her quickness, the way she sent the spear lancing down and pulled it back with a silvery trout wriggling on the end of it. And they had Summer hunting for them as well. The direwolf vanished most every night as the sun went down, but he was always back again before dawn, most often with something in his jaws, a squirrel or a hare. But here in the mountains, the streams were smaller and more icy, and the game scarcer. Meera still hunted and fished when she could, but it was harder, and some nights even Summer found no prey. Often, they went to sleep with empty bellies. Later, Bran knows that the mountain folk have seen them traversing the land because he saw them looking through Summers eyes.  This Indicates that he is using Summers eyes while not fully warging Summer, similar to how Arya used the cats eyes as the blind girl.  Summer then finds them the cave, probably while Bran is warging.  Following that, we see another affectionate/protective scene with Bran and Summer close, though once Summer feels Bran needs no protection from the Liddle, he feels the call of the hunt.  This brings on another wolf dream. “They know. ” Bran had seen them watching; not with his own eyes, but with Summers sharper ones, that missed so little. “They wont bother us so long as we dont try and make off with their goats or horses. ” Nor did they. Only once did they encounter any of the mountain people, when a sudden burst of freezing rain sent them looking for shelter.  Summer found it for them, sniffing out a shallow cave behind the grey-green branches of a towering sentinel tree, but when Hodor ducked beneath the stony overhang, Bran saw the orange glow of fire farther back and realized they were not alone. “Come in and warm yourselves, ” a mans voice called out. “Theres stone enough to keep the rain off all our heads. ” […] “The Bastards boys, aye. He was dead, but now hes not. And paying good silver for wolfskins, a man hears, and maybe gold for word of certain other walking dead. ” He looked at Bran when he said that, and at  Summer stretched out beside him. “As to that Wall, ” the man went on, “its not a place that Id be going. The Old Bear took the Watch into the haunted woods, and all that come back was his ravens, with hardly a message between them. Dark wings, dark words, me mother used to say, but when the birds fly silent, seems to me thats even darker. ” He poked at the fire with his stick. “It was different when there was a Stark in Winterfell. But the old wolfs dead and young ones gone south to play the game of thrones, and all thats left us is the ghosts. ” “The wolves will come again, ” said Jojen solemnly. […] They spent that night together, for the rain did not let up till well past dark, and only  Summer seemed to want to leave the cave. When the fire had burned down to embers, Bran let him go. The direwolf did not feel the damp as people did, and the night was calling him. Moonlight painted the wet woods in shades of silver and turned the grey peaks white. Owls hooted through the dark and flew silently between the pines, while pale goats moved along the mountainsides. Bran closed his eyes and gave himself up to the wolf dream, to the smells and sounds of midnight. The chapter concludes with Bran attempting and failing to skinchange an eagle. One must wonder if it is Varamyrs or some other eagle that is being skinchanged.  He probably does have the raw power to do it by this point, but he fails nonetheless. Bran lifted his head and saw it, its grey wings spread and still as it floated on the wind. He followed it with his eyes as it circled higher, wondering what it would be like to soar about the world so effortless. Better than climbing, even. He tried to reach the eagle, to leave his stupid crippled body and rise into the sky to join it, the way he joined with Summer. The greenseers could do it. I should be able to do it too. He tried and tried, until the eagle vanished in the golden haze of the afternoon. “Its gone, ” he said, disappointed. – ASoS – Bran II The next chapter is where Summer/Bran see Jon in the village with the wildlings.  It starts with Summer running off to hunt again, but I am beginning to wonder if Summer is also scouting for the party; it would make sense as far as the protective instinct goes.  Next, while they hide in Queens Crown tower, Bran is worried for Summer when they see first a man, and then a group of wildlings.  Complicating matters, a scared Hodor makes a bunch of noise due to the lightning, so Bran thinks Summer might be scared.  Bran briefly contemplated warging Summer to calm him, but after realizing that Hodor wasnt going to stop crying out, uses his skin hanging power to enter the big man.  It scares him, and it should.  It is one of Haggons abominations, and it is clearly wrong.  We get back to this in ADwD. A Storm of Swords – Bran III It was the first village they had seen since leaving the foothills. Meera had scouted ahead to make certain there was no one lurking amongst the ruins. Sliding in and amongst oaks and apple trees with her net and spear in hand, she startled three red deer and sent them bounding away through the brush.  Summer saw the flash of motion and was after them at once. Bran watched the direwolf lope off, and for a moment wanted nothing so much as to slip his skin and run with him, but Meera was waving for them to come ahead. Reluctantly, he turned away from Summer and urged Hodor on, into the village. Jojen walked with them. […] Bran shaded his eyes as well, and even so he had to squint. He saw nothing at first, till some movement made him turn. At first he thought it might be Summer, but no. A man on a horse. He was too far away to see much else. […] “Summers near the village, ” Bran objected. “ Summer will be fine, ” Meera promised. “Its only one man on a tired horse. ” […] Dusk was settling by the time duck and tale were done, and the rain still fell. Bran wondered how far Summer had roamed and whether he had caught one of the deer. […] I hope Summer isnt scared too, Bran thought. The dogs in Winterfells kennels had always been spooked by thunderstorms, just like Hodor. I should go see, to calm him. …] “ Bran, what did you do? ” Meera whispered. “Nothing. ” Bran shook his head. “I dont know. ” But he did. I reached for him, the way I reach for Summer. He had been Hodor for half a heartbeat. It scared him. Bran then thinks of Summer again, deluding himself that he wont be afraid with all the men in the village and the lightning.  On the next Flash of lightning the fear in Summer is raw, and he wargs him.  After that Summer senses fear among the wildlings and discovers Jon.  Summer is careful, as weve seen in other situations of danger, going wide around the sentry.   but eventually the protective instinct must get the better of him, Ashe attacks, I wont be afraid. He was the Prince of Winterfell, Eddard Starks son, almost a man grown and a warg too, not some little baby boy like Rickon.  Summer would not be afraid. “Most like theyre just some Umbers, ” he said. “Or they could be Knotts or Norreys or Flints come down from the mountains, or even brothers from the Nights Watch. Were they wearing black cloaks, Jojen? ” […] Bran could feel Summers fear in that bright instant. He closed two eyes and opened a third, and his boys skin slipped off him like a cloak as he left the tower behind. …. and found himself out in the rain, his belly full of deer, cringing in the brush as the sky broke and boomed above him. The smell of rotten apples and wet leaves almost drowned the scent of man, but it was there. He heard the clink and slither of hardskin, saw men moving under the trees. A man with a stick blundered by, a skin pulled up over his head to make him blind and deaf. The wolf went wide around him, behind a dripping thornbush and beneath the bare branches of an apple tree. He could hear them talking, and there beneath the scents of rain and leaves and horse came the sharp red stench of fear. – ASoS – Bran III Eventually the protective instinct must get the better of him, as he attacks saving Jon in the next chapter, a Jon POV.  Jon had no idea the direwolf was so near; and had no idea which one it was either, only piecing together that it must have been Summer much later (not in this chapter and still not knowing the name.   Jon thinks it is Grey Wind, due to the speed and color, but the description certainly shows that Summer is at least the equal of Robbs wolf in battle. A Storm of Swords – Jon V And death leapt down amongst them. The lightning flash left Jon night-blind, but he glimpsed the hurtling shadow half a heartbeat before he heard the shriek. The first Thenn died as the old man had, blood gushing from his torn throat. Then the light was gone and the shape was spinning away, snarling, and another man went down in the dark. There were curses, shouts, howls of pain. Jon saw Big Boil stumble backward and knock down three men behind him. Ghost, he thought for one mad instant. Ghost leapt the Wall. Then the lightning turned the night to day, and he saw the wolf standing on Dels chest, blood running black from his jaws. Grey. Hes grey. […] Long hours later, the rain stopped. Jon found himself alone in a sea of tall black grass. There was a deep throbbing ache in his right thigh. When he looked down, he was surprised to see an arrow jutting out the back of it. When did that happen? He grabbed hold of the shaft and gave it a tug, but the arrowhead was sunk deep in the meat of his leg, and the pain when he pulled on it was excruciating. He tried to think back on the madness at the inn, but all he could remember was the beast, gaunt and grey and terrible. It was too large to be a common wolf. A direwolf, then. It had to be. He had never seen an animal move so fast. Like a grey wind. Could Robb have returned to the north? – ASoS – Jon V Jon thinks of this encounter twice more, which well cover later.  Hes obviously wrong about Grey Wind being there, as he and Robb were headed to the red wedding at the time.  Moving on to Brans next chapter, Bran thinks about how he and Summer had a disturbing dream, which obviously was about the red wedding.  I imagine that the dream had something to do with Grey winds perspective on the Red wedding?  Either Bran knows after the dream that Robb and Grey Wind are dead.  It is unclear if they are aware of Catelyns status, making it more likely that the dream was from Grey Wind, he wouldnt know of Catelyns fate because Robb and their bond died first, so there would be no way for Grey Wind to know her fate. A Storm of Swords – Bran IV No, thought Bran, it is the Nightfort, and this is the end of the world. In the mountains, all he could think of was reaching the Wall and finding the three-eyed crow, but now that they were here he was filled with fears. The dream hed had. the dream Summer had had. No, I mustnt think about that dream. He had not even told the Reeds, though Meera at least seemed to sense that something was wrong. If he never talked of it maybe he could forget he ever dreamed it, and then it wouldnt have happened and Robb and Grey Wind would still be. At the next mention of Summer, they have arrived at the night fort, and Bran is deeply fearful.  He is already thinking about the Rat Cook. Then he mentions how Summer is even ill at ease. This is a clear example of Summer mirroring Brans emotions. Bran forced himself to look around. The morning was cold but bright, the sun shining down from a hard blue sky, but he did not like the noises. The wind made a nervous whistling sound as it shivered through the broken towers, the keeps groaned and settled, and he could hear rats scrabbling under the floor of the great hall. The Rat Cooks children running from their father. The yards were small forests where spindly trees rubbed their bare branches together and dead leaves scuttled like roaches across patches of old snow. There were trees growing where the stables had been, and a twisted white weirwood pushing up through the gaping hole in the roof of the domed kitchen. Even Summer was not at ease here. Bran slipped inside his skin, just for an instant, to get the smell of the place. He did not like that either. In the next passage we find out that Summer knew Jon got away. The fact that Bran thinks about Jon so much is another indication of Brans humanity and his empathy.  This is a contrast to the show.  Unfortunately, with film you cannot portray a characters inner thoughts like you can with print.  Moving on, we then learn that in saving Jon, Summer was gravely injured.  We learn a bit about the bond here. The pain Summer feels is so strong that Bran cannot even maintain or reestablish their connection. He is relegated to praying for Summers safety, throwing in a prayer for Jon Snow.  Fortunately, Summer returns and they are able to dress his wounds which heal.  Bran considers his prayers answered. The gate the Nightfort guarded had been sealed since the day the black brothers had loaded up their mules and garrons and departed for Deep Lake; its iron portcullis lowered, the chains that raised it carried off, the tunnel packed with stone and rubble all frozen together until they were as impenetrable as the Wall itself. “We should have followed Jon, ” Bran said when he saw it. He thought of his bastard brother often, since the night that Summer had watched him ride off through the storm. “We should have found the kingsroad and gone to Castle Black. ” […] “But there are wildlings. They killed some man and they wanted to kill Jon too. Jojen, there were a hundred of them. ” “So you said. We are four. You helped your brother, if that was him in truth, but it almost cost you Summer. ” “I know, ” said Bran miserably. The direwolf had killed three of them, maybe more, but there had been too many. When they formed a tight ring around the tall earless man, he had tried to slip away through the rain, but one of their arrows had come flashing after him, and the sudden stab of pain had driven Bran out of the wolfs skin and back into his own. After the storm finally died, they had huddled in the dark without a fire, talking in whispers if they talked at all, listening to Hodors heavy breathing and wondering if the wildlings might try and cross the lake in the morning. Bran had reached out for Summer time and time again, but the pain he found drove him back, the way a red-hot kettle makes you pull your hand back even when you mean to grab it. Only Hodor slept that night, muttering “Hodor, hodor, ” as he tossed and turned. Bran was terrified that Summer was off dying in the darkness. Please, you old gods, he prayed, you took Winterfell, and my father, and my legs, please dont take Summer too. And watch over Jon Snow too, and make the wildlings go away. No weirwoods grew on that stony island in the lake, yet somehow the old gods must have heard. The wildlings took their sweet time about departing the next morning, stripping the bodies of their dead and the old man theyd killed, even pulling a few fish from the lake, and there was a scary moment when three of them found the causeway and started to walk out. but the path turned and they didnt, and two of them nearly drowned before the others pulled them out. The tall bald man yelled at them, his words echoing across the water in some tongue that even Jojen did not know, and a little while later they gathered up their shields and spears and marched off north by east, the same way Jon had gone. Bran wanted to leave too, to look for Summer, but the Reeds said no. “We will stay another night, ” said Jojen, “put some leagues between us and the wildlings. You dont want to meet them again, do you? ” Late that afternoon Summer returned from wherever hed been hiding, dragging his back leg. He ate parts of the bodies in the inn, driving off the crows, then swam out to the island. Meera had drawn the broken arrow from his leg and rubbed the wound with the juice of some plants she found growing around the base of the tower. The direwolf was still limping, but a little less each day, it seemed to Bran. The gods had heard. The next passages are more examples of shadowing and hunting and mirroring.  Bran continues to be afraid of the characters from Old Nans stories; and Summer continues to be on guard. So they went exploring, Jojen Reed leading, Bran in his basket on Hodors back, Summer padding by their side. Once the direwolf bolted through a dark door and returned a moment later with a grey rat between his teeth. The Rat Cook, Bran thought, but it was the wrong color, and only as big as a cat. The Rat Cook was white, and almost as huge as a sow. …] They spent half the day poking through the castle. Some of the towers had fallen down and others looked unsafe, but they climbed the bell tower (the bells were gone) and the rookery (the birds were gone. Beneath the brewhouse they found a vault of huge oaken casks that boomed hollowly when Hodor knocked on them. They found a library (the shelves and bins had collapsed, the books were gone, and rats were everywhere. They found a dank and dim-lit dungeon with cells enough to hold five hundred captives, but when Bran grabbed hold of one of the rusted bars it broke off in his hand. Only one crumbling wall remained of the great hall, the bathhouse seemed to be sinking into the ground, and a huge thornbush had conquered the practice yard outside the armory where black brothers had once labored with spear and shield and sword. The armory and the forge still stood, however, though cobwebs, rats, and dust had taken the places of blades, bellows, and anvil. Sometimes Summer would hear sounds that Bran seemed deaf to, or bare his teeth at nothing, the fur on the back of his neck bristling. but the Rat Cook never put in an appearance, nor the seventy-nine sentinels, nor Mad Axe. Bran was much relieved. Maybe it is only a ruined empty castle. […] She laughed, and sent Hodor out to gather wood. Summer went too. It was almost dark by then, and the direwolf wanted to hunt. Continued.

The wolf hour trailer 2019. The wolf sculptures bear. The wolf hour download. JustWatch. New to this story? Click here for the Beginning Previously on Song of the Venturing Owl Donations to my Patreon, paid for this image of the Captain drawn by this artist (A warning, they have an nsfw twitter as well, and I don't claim to have any input on what they draw. The next book will be here shortly. In the mean time, I get to hunt for a cover artist! Again! Great! The memories all came in a great flood, a muddle, like cans of paint mixed to keep the shades consistent. At first, Pinion picked up the eye, and the island was burning, and her people begged her to come with them, to flee from the approaching army, and she looked down upon her dying people and decided she would not go alone. She took the Eye and called down the Worm upon the land, and the old siren empires lands were devoured by the Worm. The empire of man was mere collateral. Then she took the eye with her, and threw herself upon the mercy of her crew, and then went to the Kingdom of Heaven to be put to trial for what Pinion had done. Harley and Atalanta made it through, and Jerome took over as Captain of the Venturing Owl, and they made a life for themselves with what was left of the siren orders. Secondly, the island could not bear the thought of what had happened, and tried to fix it, but it had already been done. Pinion raised the eye to the heavens, and her throat was cut by the Colonel, a desperate island trying to destroy what had happened, that its last queen had not done such a thing. That wasnt right. Thirdly, the island started again, and Pinion won, victoriously, and her ship drifted off into the distance. But that wasnt right either, and it could not bear the lie. Fourthly, it could not bear the truth, either. On the Tenth round, a siren came onto the island, searching for answers, and the island tugged her inside and made her into a queen, and then she died when the island forget. On the Twentieth round, the island devoured all of her friends and family too. On the hundredth round, it pretended all was fine, and the humans never showed up. It repeated this for the next hundred rounds, and Atalanta and Harley found love, and Jeromes secret life as the bastard daughter of Pinion came to pass, and all was fine and happy. The island lost track of time. The island let one group leave, when they cleaved their way through the lies and saved the sirens from death, an angelic crew member giving herself up to save the others. No matter how the island tried, she could not rewrite her, she could not free her soul, and so she stayed, a pain and a memory that this was not the way the world was meant to be. On the final round, The Captain looked upon the whole of the island, and the island looked back upon her, this great place that had seen the greatest slaughter in the history of the living sea, and she saw it was unworthy. The island begged for life, so the Captain took the only course that was left and she killed it. The Worm, carved out of the heavens, having tracked a great series of hypotheticals and dreams from a place where there should be none, devoured the islands heart in his teeth. He mightve devoured the rest of the world as well, as he was adjacent, but she was distracted by a childs dream in another world, and streaked across the heavens to devour it before the sweetness was tainted by the childs father, breath rank with alcohol, or before tears could sully the careful balance of acid with the stream of tar that drooled from the great things mouth. And then the island was dead, and all knew what had happened, and all that had been there, that had touched the eye, who understood what was happening, and all in their protection woke up. I came awake and tasted blood in the darkness. My muscles ached, and cramped, and there was a horrible pain in my bones, like they had ground themselves together and turned to powder. My eyes could not see a mote of light in the darkness. Instead my other senses were on fire. I could taste blood in the various stages of thickening, could smell it ripe in the air, mixed in with decay and mold and bones, cold and old, and- The floor was rough and uneven, and shifted underneath of me. I lit up my Heart and regretted it. My eyes burned until I shut them tight, tight enough that I could barely see it through my eyelids, and then, against my will, I forced myself to my feet and opened my eyes again. The floor, that shifted back and forth, was not a solid mass, but instead was a great pit of bones. They were etched and clean of any flesh, and scraps of cloth and armor sat among them. A great mash of them, human skeletons intermixed with the long delicate wing bones of the sirens, mashed together like a lovers embrace. I swallowed, wrapping my fingers around the edge of my Heart to keep them from going numb in the cold. “Charm? ” The Captains voice came out in a harsh rasp. I turned in the dim, listening for her voice again, and found her after hearing bones moving back and forth. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she was caked in dust and grime, but her lips were curled into something almost smug. “Have you found the others? ” “I just woke up. ” “Ive been up for half an hour, ” The Captain said. “But I couldnt see anything. ” She reached forward in the gloam and her fingers wrapped around my shoulder. She braced herself, using me as a cane until she could steady properly. “Did we make it out? ” “We did, ” The Captain said. “How do you know? ” I asked. She pointed up. I followed her gaze, and swallowed. Hanging above us, long tendrils of something that had once been flesh and now held up by what looked like nothing more than gnarled tree-root sat a great golden heart. It stretched at least two fathoms across, and it was broken, split in half. It had a gross dark mold growing across the wound. I looked away, and the Captain tried to meet my eyes, and I looked away from that too. “This was such a mistake to come here, ” I whispered. “It was, ” The Captain agreed. “Charm, can you find the others? ” I swallowed, and a shiver ran down my spine, and it moved from just my spine to rest of me until I was shaking in that cool crypt. The Captain stared at me, her eyes like tiny cut amethysts in her head, and then both of her wings wrapped around my back. She had a familiar comforting smell after weeks of being on board with her. It stilled my heart. She held me like that for a time until I could feel warm, and had enough space of mind to dig into my heart and find the others, and then I gestured outside of the cocoon of feathers. “Sevs that way. ” Sev was half buried in bones when we found him, his chest gently rising and falling in sleep. In front of him, leaned up against a wall, a siren skeleton sat. I stared at it and tried to place why it seemed important. Something about it gleamed in the light of my heart. “Thats a chefs knife, ” The Captain said, and I stared ahead at it. Resting next to the siren, as if it had fallen from the bird-mans hands after he died, sat the chefs cleaver. Which made this the skeleton of the chef. Not everyone had made it off of the island on board the Venturing Owl. Despite myself, a tear trickled out of the corner of my eye and ran down my face, scoring a path through the dust choking my skin. And then another, and another. I reached down and gently picked up the chefs knife, choked with heavy rust and decay. It felt about the same in my hands. We could restore it. Behind us, Sev snorted away, choking on the dust wed brought up in our wake, and his eyes fluttered open behind his fluff. “Charm? C-captain? ” I could see scabs under his fluff. I could see where hed bled, where hed been wounded, where the island had hurt him, and my heart sank like a rock. “Im here, ” The Captain said, and she spread her wings for him. Sev surged out of the bones like a horror in a dime novel and embraced her, his massive arms wrapping until she almost disappeared into his now grey body. “Sev-” “I thought- I th-thought-” Sev shook, and then he was crying too, his body shaking and shuddering, and he gasped and snorted for breath, a full body hysteria overcoming him. “I thought you were dead! Oh Captain! Im so-s-so sorry for doubting you! ” The Captain patted him on his great broad back. “We have to find-” “Ill do anything for you, ” Sev wailed. “Anything. Im sorry for being so disloyal! Dont leave me again! ” “Sev, ” I started, and Sev sobbed loud enough to drown out the rest of my words. “Sev-” I cut in. “Severiel! ” He snorted, but went quiet, and his arms fell from the Captains side. “Yes? ” “We have to find the others, ” I said. “Okay, ” Sev said, his voice half childlike, and the Captain stepped around him. She gestured at me to lead, and I did. Vali was closest. She was gaunt in the darkness, and she was awake, her new eyes gleaming red in the darkness. She was gaunt, thin enough that I could count her ribs, and one wing was tucked forcefully against her side. It was still shredded, the feathers unkempt and clumped together. Behind her, where shed risen, sat enough dust to kill a man, in a perfect outline of where shed laid. “Vali? ” I whispered, and she turned to face me, revealing what she was hunched over. A human skeleton sat here, in the very corner of the room, cloaked in a familiar set of armor. The Colonels body. Unattended, the gleaming metal plates had rotted into dust, and the embossed insignias corroded into nothingness, and anything ornate and royal had faded into the dank crypt air. Through her gut a spear sat. “Its yours, ” The Captain offered. “What? ” Vali choked out, her voice low and awful with disuse. “Finders keepers, ” The Captain said. “Any member of my crew, after dispelling phenomena, gets their pick of whats left. ” “Im a member of your crew now? ” Vali asked, her lips twisted up into a half frown. “Are you going to say no? ” The Captain asked. “If I did? ” “You know too much, ” The Captain said. Vali laughed, and it was a weak one, rank with pain. “Am I really being gangpressed? ” “Join me, ” The Captain said, her voice softer. “Besides, ” She said, shaking her head. “You were a part of my mothers crew. I could… I could use someone like you. ” Valis eyes snapped over to the Captain, flicked across her body, and her hands found the shaft of the spear and twisted it out of the corpse. Fabric clung to the blade and fell like rotted petals to the ground once freed. “Who are you, really? ” “Im my mothers daughter, ” Catastrophe said. Valis eyes settled at her neck, perhaps, or somewhere along her feathers, and then she nodded once, and moved to follow us, spear in her hands. She didnt speak, but she fell in line at my side instead of the Captains. Each step was a difficulty for her, her balance long off, so she used the base of the spear as a walking cane. It helped. I pointed off into the distance, at the opposite side of the great bone pit, and we marched on. Thyn laid among a crowd of people. Some were recently dead, their throats cut open, or their stomachs split, but they didnt smell beyond the normal scent of distant rot. Most were alive, and at the noise of crunching clattering bone, they slowly came awake. Students. They ranged from young adult to late adult, and they managed to haul themselves to their feet despite their wounds. One by one, they drifted to Thyns side, and with their help, Thyn, injured, weak, a line of blood down his lips, was able to stand. “Captain, ” Thyn greeted, bowing his head. “Im delighted by your presence. Do you mind if I say I told you so? ” The Captain snorted, cast her head to the side, and then leaned forward, planting a kiss to the center of his forehead. Thyns eyes went wide, and he swayed in the support of the many students. The Captain swept past him. “Charm? The other two? ” I led the way, and the crowd of students trailed behind us, helping the First mate with each trembling step. We left the dead men and women behind us, and tried to pretend that the losses didnt hurt. I didnt know their names, but I knew Id be seeing their faces in my nightmares, hear what I thought their voices might sound like. Id mourn them just the same. In the darkness, the sound of crunching bone and the injured was broken by a fresh sob. Underneath of the great heart, where it had split open and worms lapped at the thick nectar of the islands flesh, Irony sat. Across her lap the professor lay. His face was split, and his body had been reduced to hot smears of hamburger, fur looking far more like fabric than the living coverings of a learned man. His chest did not rise, nor did it fall. His eyes did not look around with curiosity, and his snout did not marvel at the place they found the whole of his person at. He did not move or stir at the touch of the dragons hands upon his body, nor did he look up at us as we approached. He smelled faintly of lamp oil, beyond the obvious, and of old tattered pages. Irony looked up, and her face was red and blotchy. Her eyes fell on mine, and then she looked back upon the dead wolf, and her hands shook. Behind us came a wail from one of the students, and others scuffed against the bones, and then the entire class drifted over, surrounding Irony and the dead man. The Captain remained silent. Vali shook her head quietly. Sev could not bear to look down upon him. Thyn knelt with the rest of the students. They didnt make words. Words were the domain of rational people, but there were few things rational about mourning, few things rational about grief. There were few things rational about sacrifice. Some quirk of the brain could process these things, but they looped in and around each other, again and again and again until all emotion was just grief and a physical pain in the back of the throat, and I explored all of those sensations at once until my heart was in my throat, and I was on my knees, and I joined them in making those noises that werent rational, and there were tears, and there was a mash, a great cry into the darkness, and despite it all, his chest did not move, and he did not stir, and he did not awaken, and he did not stand up. A tear fell off of Ironys face and soaked into his fur, and he did not wake up. Hands touched his, many hands of his students, and he did not move. He did not do any of those things, those things characteristic of the living, and yet, I did not want to call him dead. We stood there, in a closed circle around the dead man, around the professor, who had once been a warrior and was now an academic, and in death was the hero he had wanted to be, for a time I could not recount. My hands shook too much, and my body shook too much, and my heart thumped less like a mortal mans and more like a grieving animal, such as the elephants recognize death, or the crows and ravens do, this primal constant that ate at my mind and rang through my muscles until all that was left was hollow and insignificant. The only reason that it stopped was that to the side, an explosion shook the cavern, and a door shattered open, and the rest of the crew of the Song of the Venturing Owl burst in, armed to the teeth with every weapon they had in their possession, covered head to toe in armor, and screaming a hellish warcry. They stopped, abruptly, as the Captain stood up, dusting off bones from her skin, and glared at them. “I told you to leave us if we took too long! ” Sampson saluted from the front of the pack, his tiger friend behind him. “Sampson, reporting for duty! ” The body sat as a rank thing on the deck of the ship. Eyes refused to stay on it, not out of any strange force, but out of a refusal to accept such a failure. All except the Captains. Her eyes drank greedily from it, memorizing every morsel of bloodied cloth, every tear, even the expression on the dead mans face. We stood, entirely gathered on the deck, crowded with students and waited. I wasnt sure entirely what we were waiting for, but the moment demanded I wait, and wait I did. “He didnt die a member of this crew, ” The Captain said, breaking the queer silence. “So I cant promise his soul will rest. I wont burn his body, nor will I scatter his ashes across the shore of the island he was born on. The waves will not crest over his body there, and his name will not be memorialized in any of the books of the Venturing Owl. ” There was another silence then, a queerer, frustrated one, as sailors slowly turned to look over the Captain. Only she maintained her gaze down at the professor. “We fought on opposite sides of the same war, and he never really stopped fighting. He moved from fighting sirens under his Majestys command, to fighting ignorance at institutions. He traded sword and gun for ink and feather. His office was not that of a commander, but of a scholar. He fought not out of loyalty, but out of curiosity, and a sense of beauty that would not elude his grasp. ” She paused again, and Irony shuddered and swallowed, trying to hide her breath, hitched, tears trickling at the corner of her eyes. I could barely breath, paralyzed, transfixed, a dozen other things, but I could not bear to hear her stop talking. The other students were far less able, and tears fell. Sniffs tried to bury it back. “So he will receive the greater honor of being buried at sea, in the same way he wouldve back on the ships he once fought from, ” The Captain said. “I do not have his uniform, nor do I have his medals, but I do have his sword. ” She drew it forth from her side, and knelt, placing it across his chest. “I did not fight at his side, nor did I see him in combat, but I know, as all of you know, that he died fighting for his students. ” She looked up. “And I respect that more than a dozen military victories. One day, I will do the same for my crew, as is custom among the Venturing Owl. His is an example to follow, and for that, while his name will not be written in the books of my islands, his name will be written in mine. Professor Hendrickson will not be forgotten. ” Her eyes flicked across the gathered sailors and students, and then she lifted up the body. The sea lapped at the edge of the ship like a hungry wolf, and she turned. Students turned away, but Irony stood, watching, and then the Captain dropped him. There was a splash. Then there was silence, silence and the journey home. This has been Song of the Venturing Owl arc 2. Stay tuned for arc 3, in Ballad of the Venturing Owl, coming soon to an r/redditserials near you. Remember to comment! Want to be notified through discord? Click here! My zubreddit, if you want to read more of my work. Next.

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The well dressed wolf. 5 years ago my older sister (19yo) died suddenly. I was the one who "found" her, or so my entire family believe. In truth, I was with her the entire day, by her side chilling and chatting, and ignored her plea for help as she was dying. A little backstory, growing up with my sister, we would always pull pranks on each other, one of the most used prank included one of us pretending to play dead or dying, we thought it was hilarious when one of us would think it was real and react hysterically. It became a common thing to the point where it became an old joke and the victim would just roll their eyes and/or ignore the other. We didn't know about the story "The Boy Who Cried Wolf" I had only heard of it but never knew the story. I didn't know that me and my sister would enact this very tale in real life, all the way to final sentence. In October 2015, as she was laying on her bed next the couch I was sitting on, she began gasping for air out of nowhere, I didn't think anything of it because I thought she was just acting silly, just pulling the same old prank on me. I told her to stop and just giggled at her. I was on my laptop reading something and she tried really hard to get my attention, saying "help" while she gasped. I just kept saying "stop, I already know you're joking" and "it's getting old now. After around 10 minutes, she stopped. I looked up and I thought she fell asleep but in reality, she had passed away. After about an hour, I got up to go shower and I noticed she was "sleeping" with her head laying on her iPad screen instead of a pillow. I got closer to move the iPad when I noticed a liquid coming out of her nose and onto the iPad screen. I tried to wake her up and she wouldn't wake. That's when I knew something was wrong. I kept trying to wake her up and when I looked down at her hand, it was all purple. I freaked out and went to get my family and called the ambulance. I thought maybe she was unconscious and everything will be okay. Reality hit when I overheard the medic say she had passed away. I cried hours upon hours and isolated myself for a couple of weeks. My family thinks she died in her sleep but I'm too ashamed to tell them what really happened. I feel guilty up to this day, and while I am past the griefing, I still have mini grieving periods when I reflect back on the day. The only reason why I have not fallen into a deep and dark place in my mind is because I know, if I were to ask her if she is mad at me and hates me, she would say no and that it was our fault for not learning the valuable lesson from "The Boy Who Cried Wolf. I know that she would say yes if I were to ask her if she forgived me. The very fact that I know she wouldn't despise me or hate me for my mistake is what allows me to smile without feeling unworthy. But some days like today, I get flashbacks of the moment they zipped her body bag up halfway and let us bid farewell. I remember there being a single stream of tears running down her cheek, and a part of me keeps thinking the stream of tears meant she died a painful death and all she could hear during the pain was me ignoring her, despite the medics saying she most likely died painlessly. Thoughts like these just completely reverse my happiness/acceptance and put me back to stage 1 of griefing, and I always have to build myself up. I came here because I just want someone to know what happened and would love people's thoughts on this. Should I feel guilty and responsible for her death? Should I feel ashamed for thinking she would still love and forgive me? despite me never 100% knowing. I am at a constant war with myself. Thank you for your time.

The wolf hour showtimes. The wolf hour imdb. Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 Extra: 1, 2, 3 That night was a nightmare that would just never end. It was a message that was dug into my mind loud and with crystal clarity. That the world I had now found myself had no place for someone like me. A world that would consume the weak and innocent alive. The only ones who survived in it were those who were willing to become monsters themselves. There have been a lot of days lately that I have wanted to forget. And I know there will be plenty more still to come. Still…I feel like I have been losing myself piece by piece. The person who I was being chipped away and replaced by someone who keeps me awake at night. There is something wrong with me, something broken inside of me that I cant fix. I just want to go back to being normal…I hate living like this. Victor and I headed over to the police station quick. He wouldnt talk to me at all on the way over, hell I doubt he even cared I was there. He tried to keep himself calm, but I could tell by he was pushing down some deep anger. If I was in his position, I dont think I would have been able to keep quite as restrained. At the station, Victor and I informed Eri and Jennifer about what happened. Leaving out the part where we met up with Lenae. The question had come up in my mind as to why Miranda would not just be able to teleport herself out of wherever she was being held captive. “You remember Lia? ” Eri asked, I nodded. “Her power was negated by water; similarly, all of our powers can be negated with the right knowledge. ” “Miranda always kept that information to herself. We all did if we could. Somehow, it seems that the twins found out about her weakness and used it against her. ” Jennifer added. “You know what it is, right Victor? ” “Of course…it isnt something that theyd be able to know. Far as I knew, Miranda never told anyone what her weakness was except for me. ” “Hes right…theres no way she would have let something like that be known to any of us. Even if she trusted us, Miranda was always wary when it came to discussing or using her powers. Someone had to have told them…” Eri said. “The only people I can think would have known would be in our family. ” Jennifer said. “Shit…it would have had to have been Lenae or Kriea. ” Jennifer bit down on her lower lip. Kriea, there was that name again, the sister that Lenae had told us to watch out for. “What are you talking about? ” Eri asked. Jennifer looked over at Eri, a troubled look on her face. “If you know something, say it! ” Victor shouted. His voice booming so loud that both Eri and I jumped. I could tell by Eris expression that she had never seen Victor like this before. “Those two are the only ones who could possibly know her weakness. “What makes you say that? ” I asked. “Because they were around us when we were growing up…hell with how out of it mom was, and with dad being gone for so long, they practically raised the rest of us until Eri was born. ” Jennifer glanced over at Eri. “That was when Lenae left, and a couple of years later Kriea did the same. During that time, it wouldnt be out of question that either of them could have learned her weakness. ” “What reason would they have to tell Riley and Fife about it? ” Eri asked. “I dont know. They seemed to care a lot about us at the time. The two of them both left without telling us why. ” “The reason doesnt matter right now, all that matters is finding where they took her. You have to have something to go off of. ” Victor said. Jennifer shook her head. “If we did, dont you think we would have already made a move? Besides, how the hell could you have allowed this to happen anyway? Werent you with her? Something like this would have never happened if you did your job! ” Jennifer yelled. “Hey…Jennifer you dont have to be so…” Eri was cut off when Victor raised his hand in front of her. “Shes right…I made a mistake leaving her alone. Because of that, I will stop at nothing to find her. Even if I have to kill those two myself. ” This wasnt the chilled-out guy I had come to know. That part of him was nowhere to be seen. Victor had a look of deadly seriousness as he made direct eye contact with Jennifer. There was no hesitation in his voice. I never thought him capable of killing someone before, but seeing him like this, I realized how wrong I must have been. That expression…I could tell that he wasnt lying. “We have a problem! ” Reid burst into the room in a panic. “Ferdinand is dead! ” Ferdinand…he was one of the detectives on the case. To think that I had just been talking with him some hours earlier in the day and now he was dead. It almost felt unreal, like my mind just couldnt really comprehend the situation. “What…” Jennifers voice fell away from her as I saw her eyes widen. “He was at an ice cream shop with his daughter when a group of those “cubs” showed up and gunned him down. They also injured and killed a few other people at the shop. ” Reid explained. “They werent just targeting Miranda…Jennifer, what if they know everyone working on this case? ” Eri said. “Reid contact Coda right now and get a unit to head over to his home. We need him to get back here now. Im going to call Straf and do the same. We have to make sure they arent going for anyone else. ” Reid nodded and took out her phone to call Coda. As she tried to swiftly explain the situation to him over the phone, I could tell something was wrong. “You hear gunshots in the building? Just stay put, were gonna send help over to you. ” “Fuck that, whats his address? A couple of cops arent going to be able to do anything to help. Ill go. “You cant mean to” Jennifer was interrupted by Victor. “Do you want him to end up dead? Just tell me where to go! ” Jennifer hesitantly told Victor the location of Codas apartment, and he started to head out of the room. Watching him go, a thought popped into my mind. “Victor wait! Ill go with you. ” I spoke up. “Kevin, what are you doing? Shouldnt you stay here? If you go out, they could…” Eri grasped onto my jacket sleeve. “I have an idea. Just…I just need you to trust me on this. ” I said, gently peeling Eris fingers off my sleeve. “Jennifer, I need you to let me borrow a Tigers Blood pill. ” “Why do you need that? ” Jennifer asked. “I want to try and get some information out of them, using their addiction against them would be the best way. ” I answered. “Its the only thing I can think might work. ” Sure enough, she let me take one of the pills. I wasnt very confident if my plan would end up yielding any results or not, but we were running out of time and getting pushed against a wall. I slipped the small bag with the pill into my pocket and went over to join Victor. “Kevin…Victor…” I heard Eri say as we were leaving the room. Turning around, I could see she was on the verge of tears. “Please stay safe. ” “Well be back, dont worry. “Yeah, itll be fine. ” I said, trying to reassure Eri. Even though on the inside, I could feel dread starting to fill my stomach. I followed Victor out to his truck, and we started driving towards Codas apartment building as fast as possible. While my main reason for accompanying Victor was to try and get some information from the cubs that we would inevitably run into once we got to our destination, there was another reason. It was to try and make sure he didnt lose himself to his anger. I could feel it exuding from him like an aura. If his transformation was like mine as he said, things could turn bad if he lost himself. Admittedly, there would have been little I could do to stop him if that happened. Even if that was the case, I couldnt in good conscience just let that happen. Another funny thing to think back on now. That stupid altruistic side of myself that did little but put Eri and me in more danger. Even though it causes so much trouble…I know Id regret not acting on it. I might be a monster, but its that sense of humanity that keeps me sane. The drive over there was quiet. While Victor did agree to let me come with, I couldnt really tell if he cared all that much. I wanted to ask him why he was so ready to go and help Coda, but I was unsure if I wanted to hear the answer. The way he was acting, while I understood why, still scared me a little. “You…you wont kill them, will you? ” I finally asked. “Why does that matter to you, long as one is alive we can learn where their hideout is. ” Victor replied. “But they dont have any control over what theyre doing. Maybe there is a way to turn them back to normal. ” “Thats wishful thinking Kevin. You cant keep thinking of them as people, theyre just puppets. How many lives are you willing to let them take and ruin just because maybe they can be helped? ” “I…” “Whoever these people used to be. Theyre long gone. “The way youre talking, youve seen this before, havent you? ” I asked. Victor sighed. “It was years ago. They did this same thing to people. The only difference was they were not using a drug then. The effects were the same, a person becomes a monster after being exposed to their magic. Theyre capable of doing horrible things, and they do it happily. ” “There has to be some way to reverse the effects, right? ” “Maybe…the only ones who know the answer to that are the ones behind this mess though. We dont know where they are, and even if we did, they wouldnt tell us anything. ” In truth, I didnt want to avoid killing people because I looked at it as the right thing to do. It was more to do with the fact that I didnt want to risk losing myself. At that time, I wasnt even thinking about the fact that killing was an inevitability. That when I did finally come across Riley and Fife that the only way this ends is with either them or Eri dying. Thats not how its supposed to work, is what Id tell myself. I held onto these notions that events had to play out a certain way because my mind just couldnt comprehend the alternatives. Thinking that I could play the hero and save people, that I could play out some childhood fantasy. I was naïve. When we took a turn onto the street where Codas apartment building was located, we were met with the visage of this horrible, brutal, vicious reality. Victor slammed on the brakes, the truck coming to a screeching halt. The street was littered with bodies, the cubs were dragging people out of the apartments as they kicked and screamed and were butchering them out in the open. Three cop cars were spread about the street, but it was clear that they did nothing to stem this absolute anarchy. People were being tossed from the fire escapes, their bodies breaking on the sidewalk. Others were being torn apart by cubs that were proceeding to feast on their organs and like rabid animals, cheering with excitement. Some were being dragged out and shoved into windowless white vans. My body started to shake as that dread I felt into the pit of my stomach morphed into unmitigated terror. This was impossible, a scene like this should never have been possible. How could this happen? My brain tried and failed over and over again to comprehend the display of bloody brutality unfolding right in front of my eyes. I couldnt believe it, it had to be fake all of it. I shook my head and looked down towards my feet. The laughter and screams interspersed with gunshots gouged their way through my ear canal. I prayed and begged for it to end. I couldnt have been on earth anymore. No, this was hell. “Kevin! ” I heard Victor yell. Suddenly the window next to me broke, and hands gripped onto me, dragging me through it. My body hit the pavement hard as a couple of cubs pulled me away from the truck. One of the cubs held me down while the other slammed his baseball bat into my stomach, cackling to themselves. This was just a bad dream, right? Any moment Id wake up in bed next to Eri. Another blow from the bat crushed my guts, causing me to retch and cough. Those red eyes looking down at me with ear to ear grins. Just a bad dream…it had to be. I watched the bat raise up into the air, ready to come crashing down on me again. Victor grabbed hold of the man before he swung down and delivered a punch across the mans jaw. He collapsed onto the ground behind me, and the other cub that was holding me down let go and charged at Victor, swinging at him wildly with a knife. Victor dodged each swing and kneed the cub in the stomach before slamming his elbow into the back of the cubs neck, causing the man to crumple to the ground, his face smashing against the concrete. Victor quickly picked me up off of the ground and took me behind a nearby car. “You need to snap out of it. Were here now. Lets do what we came to do. You need to head inside of the building and check the apartment. ” Victor said, placing his hand on my shoulder. It took me a few moments to process and bring myself back to reality. “What are you going to do? ” I asked. Victor pointed over to the pair of windowless vans. “He could be inside there. We also need to stop them from leaving with whoever they are trying to take. ” There were at least eight or nine cubs situated around the vans, they hadnt taken notice of us because of how engrossed into their self-indulgent violence they were. “Are you sure you want to handle them alone? ” I asked. “Dont worry about me, Ill be fine. You just move as fast as you can to the apartment. If you run into any of them, use this. ” Victor handed me a handgun. “It is going to be too cramped inside that place to transform, itd be more troublesome than it is worth to do it. ” “Ive never had to shoot a gun before, though. ” I said. “Itll be close quarters, as long as you remain calm and aim youll be ok. The safety is already off so if your finger is on the trigger, be sure you are ready to shoot. You have twelve bullets, if you run out you will need to find another way to fight. Now take it. ” Hesitantly, I took the gun from Victor. Victor peered around the car over at the group of cubs again. “When I go over there and they come at me, use that as a distraction to get inside the building without them noticing. Alright? ” I nodded my head and prepared to run inside. Seeing the carnage on the streets I could only hope that we hadnt shown up too late. Victor stood up and started to approach the group of cubs. Once they noticed him, a few of them immediately attacked him. Victor was able to easily evade the swings of their weapons, retaliating with punches and kicks. Only needing to land one as the blow was utterly devastating to whoever he hit. I had thought he would end up transforming, but for whatever reason, he held back from doing that. Judging from how effortlessly he was handling the cubs that were trying to kill him, it wasnt like his transformation even seemed needed. He was already a monster in just that human form. I sprinted towards Codas apartment building, rushing up the stairs and through the open doorway. The moment I passed through the door frame, I was stopped in my tracks. Standing just a few feet in front of me was one of the cubs. She had one hand grasping onto the hair of a battered, struggling young girl she was dragging down the stairs, and the other clutching onto a pistol. As the woman raised her pistol to aim at me, I found myself moving without even thinking about it. I lifted the gun in my hands and fired. The woman staggered down the stairs and fell in front of me. Blood trickled down from the bullet wound in the side of her skull as she looked up at me with unmoving eyes. My hands trembled as I looked down at the corpse that was staring back at me. I could feel the nausea growing and bile in my throat. Raising a hand to my mouth, I vomited through my fingers, causing a mess on the floor. I had killed someone, without the filter of the wolf. Even if they were trying to kill me and I had no other choice, I couldnt stop myself from shaking. Uncontrollable tears started streaming down my face. I forced myself to look away from the corpse. x.

The wolf hour paperback. The wolf hotel saratoga wyoming. This is part 3 in a multi-part series about our favorite direwolves. The other posts in the series are here: Part 1: Lady and Sansa, Part 2: Grey Wind and Robb, Part 4: Summer and Bran, Part 5: Shaggydog and Rickon, Part 6: Ghost and Jon This can also be viewed on my blog, with nicer formatting and images: Nymeria and Arya, Recall this SSM. Q: Are all the Stark children wargs/skin changers with their wolves? GRRM: To a greater or lesser degree, yes, but the amount of control varies widely. Q: Yes, I know that Lady is dead, but assuming they were all alive and all the children as well, would all the wolves have bonded to the kids as Bran and Summer did? GRRM: Bran and Summer are somewhat of a special case. A note about the order of this series:  I am doing this analysis in order of what I think is the increasing magical power of the direwolves.  We have 4 wolves with eyes of molten gold, so Ill be focusing on them first and then finishing with our green-eyed and finally our red-eyed direwolf.  The order chosen within the group of the first four wolves was chosen in order of the increasing magical strength of their Stark children.  Arya, I think is stronger in her magic than Sansa and Robb, for a variety of reasons.  Bran, of course seems to be extremely strong.  While its possible that Arya is equal to him in magical potential, the general consensus is that Bran is exceptional, so well give him the edge, and cover him in part 4. A Game of Thrones - Nymeria with then Cut-off from Arya Several themes from our prior volumes continue here with Nymeria and her bond to Arya, including: Bad things happening when theyre separated The wolves mirroring their childrens personality Shadowing/protecting Belonging to the pack / hunting Being affectionate when theyre together Obedience / disobedience These are all in evidence for the pair while together in AGoT, where they spend such a short time together before being separated.  In later volumes, we see that even though they are separated, the bond is still strong between them.  We start in Arya I where Nymeria had been tied up while Arya was with Princess Myrcella.  Immediately we see their affection for each other and their closeness, save when they are forced to be separated as Cat has done here.  Mirroring of their personalities is evident even in the wolfs name, Nymeria, a figure of female empowerment and independence.  The scene closes Nymeria shadowing Arya, checking off each of the themes listed above save one which comes later in the chapter.  Nymeria's bond with Arya developed quickly indeed. A Game of Thrones - Arya I Nymeria was waiting for her in the guardroom at the base of the stairs. She bounded to her feet as soon as she caught sight of Arya. Arya grinned. The wolf pup loved her, even if no one else did. They went everywhere together, and Nymeria slept in her room, at the foot of her bed. If Mother had not forbidden it, Arya would gladly have taken the wolf with her to needlework. Let Septa Mordane complain about her stitches then. Nymeria  nipped eagerly at her hand as Arya untied her. She had yellow eyes. When they caught the sunlight, they gleamed like two golden coins. Arya had named her after the warrior queen of the Rhoyne, who had led her people across the narrow sea. That had been a great scandal too. Sansa, of course, had named her pup “Lady. ” Arya made a face and hugged the wolfling tight. Nymeria licked her ear, and she giggled. By now Septa Mordane would certainly have sent word to her lady mother. If she went to her room, they would find her. Arya did not care to be found. She had a better notion. The boys were at practice in the yard. She wanted to see Robb put gallant Prince Joffrey flat on his back. “Come, ” she whispered to Nymeria. She got up and ran, the wolf coming hard at her heels. Next, they encounter Ghost and Jon, and we see pack interaction.  Nymeria is wary of the larger Ghost, but they seem to get along.  Arya and Jon in turn are of one mind about the unfairness of being outcast.  The theme of the call of the pack is evident where Nymeria begins to follow Ghost and / or Jon before realizing that she and Arya are not going along with them.  The pack bond/instinct is strong in these wolves. They arrived, flushed and breathless, to find Jon seated on the sill, one leg drawn up languidly to his chin. He was watching the action, so absorbed that he seemed unaware of her approach until his white wolf moved to meet them.  Nymeria stalked closer on wary feet. Ghost, already larger than his litter mates, smelled her, gave her ear a careful nip, and settled back down. […] Nothing is fair. Jon said. He messed up her hair again and walked away from her, Ghost moving silently beside him.  Nymeria started to follow too, then stopped and came back when she saw that Arya was not coming. Reluctantly she turned in the other direction. A Game of Thrones - Arya I The pair encounter their brothers again when Ghost and Jon visit to make their farewells and to give Needle to Arya. Nymeria seems happy to see Ghost this time, mirroring Arya and Jons relationship.  Nymeria is also fetching specific items for Arya to pack.  Is this an example of them sharing one mind in a near warging?  This type of cooperation is reminiscent of Grey Wind and Robb much later in the story.  At the end Arya commands Nymeria to guard, and she obeys without issue.  The tension between obedience and independence is important to Nymerias story.  IMHO she does obey but is more independent and questions authority as a mirroring to Aryas personality. A Game of Thrones - Jon II Arya was in her room, packing a polished ironwood chest that was bigger than she was. Nymeria was helping. Arya would only have to point, and the wolf would bound across the room, snatch up some wisp of silk in her jaws, and fetch it back. But when she smelled Ghost, she sat down on her haunches and yelped at them. […] “ I dont think shed like Nymeria helping, either. ” The she-wolf regarded him silently with her dark golden eyes. “Its just as well. I have something for you to take with you, and it has to be packed very carefully. ” […] Wary but excited, Arya checked the hall. “ Nymeria, here. Guard. ” She left the wolf out there to warn of intruders and closed the door. By then Jon had pulled off the rags hed wrapped it in. He held it out to her. Aryas eyes went wide. Dark eyes, like his. “A sword, ” she said in a small, hushed breath. – A Game of Thrones – Jon II We dont get another Arya POV until they arrive in Kings Landing, so now Sansa takes up the Nymerias tale.  This eventful chapter draws a stark contract between the pairs of sisters as we already discussed in part I.  We see the opposite side of the obedience independence con here.  As Arya brushes her, Nymeria struggles, mirroring Aryas independent streak.  She is also mirroring Aryas own mood who doesnt seem to enjoy the process either.  We also see snipes of how close the pair are in Aryas dialogue. A Game of Thrones – Sansa I She found Arya on the banks of the Trident, trying to hold Nymeria still while she brushed dried mud from her fur. The direwolf was not enjoying the process. Arya was wearing the same riding leathers she had worn yesterday and the day before. […] Arya shrugged. “ Hold still, ” she snapped at Nymeria, “Im not hurting you. ” Then to Sansa she said, “When we were crossing the Neck, I counted thirty-six flowers I never saw before, and Mycah showed me a lizard-lion. ” […] Arya was still going on, brushing out Nymerias tangles and chattering about things shed seen on the trek south. “Last week we found this haunted watchtower, and the day before we chased a herd of wild horses. You should have seen them run when they caught a scent of Nymeria. ” The wolf wriggled in her grasp and Arya scolded her. “Stop that, I have to do the other side, youre all muddy. ” […] Arya shrugged. “I didnt go far. Anyway,  Nymeria was with me the whole time. I dont always go off, either. Sometimes its fun just to ride along with the wagons and talk to people. ” […] Arya ignored her. She gave a hard yank with the brush. Nymeria growled and spun away, affronted. “Come back here! ” “Theres going to be lemon cakes and tea, ” Sansa went on, all adult and reasonable. Lady brushed against her leg. Sansa scratched her ears the way she liked, and Lady sat beside her on her haunches, watching Arya chase Nymeria. “Why would you want to ride a smelly old horse and get all sore and sweaty when you could recline on feather pillows and eat cakes with the queen? ” “I dont like the queen, ” Arya said casually. Sansa sucked in her breath, shocked that even Arya would say such a thing, but her sister prattled on, heedless. “She wont even let me bring Nymeria. ” She thrust the brush under her belt and stalked her wolf. Nymeria watched her approach warily. “A royal wheelhouse is no place for a wolf, ” Sansa said. “And Princess Myrcella is afraid of them, you know that. ” “Myrcella is a little baby. ” Arya grabbed Nymeria around her neck, but the moment she pulled out the brush again the direwolf wriggled free and bounded off. Frustrated, Arya threw down the brush. “Bad wolf! ” she shouted. […] She turned to walk off, but Arya shouted after her, “They wont let you bring Lady either. ” She was gone before Sansa could think of a reply, chasing Nymeria along the river. This cute interaction represents the last time Arya and Sansa get along so far in the story.  Unfortunately, our next scene is where Joffrey attacks Arya and Mycah.  Note that Arya already mentioned him earlier, as did Sansa with her mention of Aryas bruises.  He was clearly a close friend by this point. The blame in this encounter is very important, as it determines the future of both wolves and sets the mood for the girls interactions for the remainder of this volume.  Lets be clear: Joffrey starts it, attacks Mycah, and sadistically tortures/threatens him.  Then Arya hits him with a stick to protect her friend, warranted.  She strikes him again as Mycah escapes, also warranted to enable the escape.  Then Sansa says that Arya threw a rock at him, which would be taking it too far, but WE DONT ACTUALLY KNOW IF ARYA WAS AIMING AT JOFFREY.  We only get Sansas opinion that Arya missed and hit the horse.  She may have been trying to hit the horse, I think this is quite plausible, as the author makes sure to mention it going toward Mycah in the same sentence.  Joffrey “slashes” at her with his sword, a completely shocking act.  Arya is truly frightened and retreats, but ends between Joffrey and a tree.  Then and only then does Nymeria act, judiciously, grabbing at Joffreys arm, not his throat (which might be warranted.   She then immediately obeys Arya when called off.  All in all, Nymeria is nothing short of a hero here.  Arya again does the right thing, deescalating by removing “Lions Tooth” from the equation. Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the princes head, and then everything happened at once before Sansas horrified eyes. Joffrey staggered and whirled around, roaring curses. Mycah ran for the trees as fast as his legs would take him. Arya swung at the prince again, but this time Joffrey caught the blow on Lions Tooth and sent her broken stick flying from her hands. The back of his head was all bloody and his eyes were on fire. Sansa was shrieking, “No, no, stop it, stop it, both of you, youre spoiling it, ” but no one was listening. Arya scooped up a rock and hurled it at Joffreys head. She hit his horse instead, and the blood bay reared and went galloping off after Mycah. “Stop it, dont, stop it! ” Sansa screamed. Joffrey slashed at Arya with his sword, screaming obscenities, terrible words, filthy words. Arya darted back, frightened now, but Joffrey followed, hounding her toward the woods, backing her up against a tree. Sansa didnt know what to do. She watched helplessly, almost blind from her tears. Then a grey blur flashed past her, and suddenly Nymeria was there, leaping, jaws closing around Joffreys sword arm. The steel fell from his fingers as the wolf knocked him off his feet, and they rolled in the grass, the wolf snarling and ripping at him, the prince shrieking in pain. “Get it off, ” he screamed. “Get it off! ” Aryas voice cracked like a whip. “Nymeria! ” The direwolf let go of Joffrey and moved to Aryas side. The prince lay in the grass, whimpering, cradling his mangled arm. His shirt was soaked in blood. Arya said, “She didnt hurt you … much. ” She picked up Lions Tooth where it had fallen, and stood over him, holding the sword with both hands. “You leave him alone! ” Sansa screamed at her sister. Arya whirled and heaved the sword into the air, putting her whole body into the throw. The blue steel flashed in the sun as the sword spun out over the river. It hit the water and vanished with a splash. Joffrey moaned. Arya ran off to her horse,  Nymeria loping at her heels. – A Game of Thrones – Sansa I The encounter ends with Nymeria, having proven her bonafides as a protector, re-assuming her role as Aryas shadow.  Sadly this is not meant to continue. In the aftermath of the debacle, Ned takes up the tale. Prior to the quote below Arya calmly tells her tale, but grows angry and wild at Joffrey and then Sansas lies.  I do wonder if her bond to Nymeria is affecting her behavior here.  Preston Jacobs has recently done a series suggesting that the presence of a bonded beast may drive more aggressive behavior in the Starks.  After Cersei determines that Lady is to be executed, Arya grows wild again in defense of her pack.  Sansa, by contrast, throws Nymeria under the bus. A Game of Thrones – Eddard III “Lady wasnt there, ” Arya shouted angrily. “You leave her alone! ” “Stop them, ” Sansa pleaded, “dont let them do it, please, please, it wasnt Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you cant, it wasnt Lady, dont let them hurt Lady, Ill make her be good, I promise, I promise …” She started to cry. The chapter ends with Ladys death, but before that Ned sees the hound return with Mycahs body, but not before the author cruelly lets us think it was Nymeria. There was something slung over the back of his destrier, a heavy shape wrapped in a bloody cloak. “No sign of your daughter, Hand, ” the Hound rasped down, “but the day was not wholly wasted. We got her little pet. ” He reached back and shoved the burden off, and it fell with a thump in front of Ned. Bending, Ned pulled back the cloak, dreading the words he would have to find for Arya, but it was not Nymeria after all. It was the butchers boy, Mycah, his body covered in dried blood. He had been cut almost in half from shoulder to waist by some terrible blow struck from above. – A Game of Thrones – Eddard III Nymerias survival becomes plain when she returns to the story in ACoK.  For the remainder of A Game of Thrones, Arya mourns her loss and Mycahs while Sansa continues to blame Arya and Nymeria for all her woes.  This is poignant in Neds following chapter.  The event at the fords split wide the cracks that were in these relationships, while Nymeria was abandoned.  We must assume she felt lost, just as Arya is in this chapter. A Game of Thrones - Eddard IV Outside, wagons and riders were still pouring through the castle gates, and the yard was a chaos of mud and horseflesh and shouting men. The king had not yet arrived, he was told. Since the ugliness on the Trident, the Starks and their household had ridden well ahead of the main column, the better to separate themselves from the Lannisters and the growing tension. Robert had hardly been seen; the talk was he was traveling in the huge wheelhouse, drunk as often as not. If so, he might be hours behind, but he would still be here too soon for Ned's liking. He had only to look at Sansa's face to feel the rage twisting inside him once again. The last fortnight of their journey had been a misery. Sansa blamed Arya and told her that it should have been Nymeria who died. And Arya was lost after she heard what had happened to her butcher's boy. Sansa cried herself to sleep, Arya brooded silently all day long, and Eddard Stark dreamed of a frozen hell reserved for the Starks of Winterfell. A Game of Thrones - Eddard IV We can assume that a weak bond still exists between Nymeria and Arya during the ensuing chapters of AGoT.   Recalling our 5 themes of the wolf bonds, three are torn away during this time.  Nymeria is stripped of her role as a protector, can no longer be affectionate with Arya, and has lost her pack.  As to bad things happening when the wolves are separated from their humans, that is obvious with the Starks experiences in Kings Landing.  She probably does still mirror Aryas moods still to some degree.  Arya finally has another POV where we get see those moods up close. Nymeria returns to her thoughts when shes angry with Sansa, practicing with Needle and considering running away.  Nymeria certainly would want to rejoin Arya still at this point as Arya considers things; all those thoughts would probably call you her.  This is definitely an indication of the bond.  Its also interesting that Aryas bond to Jon is recalled when she thinks of Nymeria.  Some of their happiest times together were spent also with Ghost and Jon. A Game of Thrones - Arya II She went back to the window, Needle in hand, and looked down into the courtyard below. If only she could climb like Bran, she thought; she would go out the window and down the tower, run away from this horrible place, away from Sansa and Septa Mordane and Prince Joffrey, from all of them. Steal some food from the kitchens, take Needle and her good boots and a warm cloak. She could find Nymeria in the wild woods below the Trident, and together they'd return to Winterfell, or run to Jon on the Wall. She found herself wishing that Jon was here with her now. Then maybe she wouldn't feel so alone. That last line is particularly heart wrenching.  Nymeria must also be extremely lonely at this point.  One must wonder when she begins to form her new pack.  Our answer may be later this same chapter when Ned then brings Nymeria up again, giving Arya some well-needed parental advice.  He can see like we do how close they had been and how Arya missed Nymeria.  Then Ned lectures her about the importance of pack especially for the direwolves of Stark.  One must wander if Sansas road may have been easier if hed given her the same lecture. “We all lie, ” her father said. “Or did you truly think Id believe that Nymeria ran off? ” Arya blushed guiltily. “Jory promised not to tell. ” “Jory kept his word, ” her father said with a smile. “There are some things I do not need to be told. Even a blind man could see that wolf would never have left you willingly. ” […] “The hard cruel times, ” her father said. “We tasted them on the Trident, child, and when Bran fell. You were born in the long summer, sweet one, youve never known anything else, but now the winter is truly coming. Remember the sigil of our House, Arya. ” “ The direwolf, ” she said, thinking of Nymeria. She hugged her knees against her chest, suddenly afraid. “Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm. Septa Mordane is a good woman, and Sansa … Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you … and I need both of you, gods help me. ” – A Game of Thrones – Arya II Nymeria only comes up once more in AGoT when Arya was following Varys and Illyrio.  Id suggest this is an example of the bond as well.  She needed her protector, but she also needed confidence.  Nymeria couldnt provide the former, but she may have helped with the latter. A Game of Thrones - Arya III She must have crept after them for miles. Finally they were gone, but there was no place to go but forward. She found the wall again and followed, blind and lost, pretending that Nymeria was padding along beside her in the darkness. At the end she was knee-deep in foul-smelling water, wishing she could dance upon it as Syrio might have, and wondering if she'd ever see light again. It was full dark when finally Arya emerged into the night air. A Game of Thrones - Arya III A Clash of Kings - The Great She-Wolf and The Shapechanger Survivor A Clash of Kings introduces wolf dreams and really explores the pack through tales of the great pack that Nymeria has developed.  We also learn for sure in this volume that separation has not broken their bond.  Their personalities continue to match, even if they may never again have the opportunity to be affectionate to each other.  Arya doesnt have Nymeria close to her as her protector, but Nymeria and the threat of wolves loom large in this book, as she has formed a new pack.   Before this though, our author reminds us of her original pack.  We start in Bran I where Nymeria and the rest of the pack are mentioned.  We must wonder how much Nymeria can sense her siblings, as Summer seems have the power to do. Summer's howls were long and sad, full of grief and longing. Shaggydog's were more savage. Their voices echoed through the yards and halls until the castle rang and it seemed as though some great pack of direwolves haunted Winterfell, instead of only two. two where there had once been six. Do they miss their brothers and sisters too? Bran wondered. Are they calling to Grey Wind and Ghost, to Nymeria and Lady's Shade? Do they want them to come home and be a pack together? Who can know the mind of a wolf. Ser Rodrik Cassel said when Bran asked him why they howled. Bran's lady mother had named him castellan of Winterfell in her absence, and his duties left him little time for idle questions. A Clash of Kings - Bran I In the ACoK Arya chapters, the word “wolf” is used 28 times.  The word “wolves” is used 30 times. Of these mentions, the following categorizations can be made (see table below. Multiple mentions of the same subject in a paragraph or in consecutive paragraphs not counted multiple times. Young Wolf (mention or description) 6 Nymeria (mention or description) 4 Eddard  (mention or description) 1 Arya sees a pack 1 Mention a pack 14 Dream 2 Stark banner 1 Heard howls 7 Lady (mention or description) 2 Arya (mention or description) 6 Total Mentions 43 GRRM certainly wants us not to forget that Nymeria is running wild in the Riverlands.  The tales indicate that her great pack is running rampant, terrorizing some in the Riverlands.  Arya know immediately that it is Nymeria, but shes ashamed of having thrown stones at her, so no reunion is forthcoming. “I heard the same thing from my cousin, and shes not the sort to lie, ” an old woman said. “She says theres this great pack, hundreds of them, mankillers. The one that leads them is a she-wolf, a bitch from the seventh hell. ” A she-wolf. Arya sloshed her beer, wondering. Was the Gods Eye near the Trident? She wished she had a map. It had been near the Trident that shed left Nymeria. She hadnt wanted to, but Jory said they had no choice, that if the wolf came back with them shed be killed for biting Joffrey, even though hed deserved it. Theyd had to shout and scream and throw stones, and it wasnt until a few of Aryas stones struck home that the direwolf had finally stopped following them. She probably wouldnt even know me now, Arya thought. Or if she did, shed hate me. The man in the green cloak said, “I heard how this hellbitch walked into a village one day. a market day, people everywhere, and she walks in bold as you please and tears a baby from his mothers arms. When the tale reached Lord Mooton, him and his sons swore theyd put an end to her. They tracked her to her lair with a pack of wolfhounds, and barely escaped with their skins. Not one of those dogs came back, not one. ” – A Clash of Kings – Arya II That last tall tale had drawn Aryas ire, and she was soon thrown out of the inn by Yoren before she unmasked herself.  To contrast the villagers tales, Arya is not harmed when encountering wolves face to face in the next chapter, indicating that Nymeria is exercising some protection over her still (Nymeria herself is not seen.   The only other explanation would be that Arya herself unwittingly exercised some small amount of telepathic communication with this wolf.  The result is the same, though; the bond / warging ability is still there and beginning to strengthen, though Arya still seems to think Nymeria is “gone” as she discusses with Yoren. One of them came padding out from under the trees. He stared at her, and bared his teeth, and all she could think was how stupid shed been and how Hot Pie would gloat when they found her half-eaten body the next morning. But the wolf turned and raced back into the darkness, and quick as that the eyes were gone. Trembling, she cleaned herself and laced up and followed a distant scraping sound back to camp, and to Yoren. Arya climbed up into the wagon beside him, shaken. “Wolves, ” she whispered hoarsely. “In the woods. ” “Aye. They would be. ” He never looked at her. “They scared me. ” “Did they? ” He spat. “Seems to me your kind was fond o wolves. ” “Nymeria was a direwolf. ” Arya hugged herself. “Thats different. Anyhow, shes gone. Jory and I threw rocks at her until she ran off, or else the queen would have killed her. ” It made her sad to talk about it. “I bet if shed been in the city, she wouldnt have let them cut off Fathers head. ” – A Clash of Kings – Arya III Next, Arya is warned of Lorchs men arriving by wolves; could it be Nymerias pack? Probably, because she dreamt the howl that woke her. She must have slept, though she never remembered closing her eyes. She dreamed a wolf was howling. and the sound was so terrible that it woke her at once. Arya sat up on her pallet with her heart thumping. “Hot Pie, wake up. ” She scrambled to her feet. “Woth, Gendry, didnt you hear? ” She pulled on a boot. All around her, men and boys stirred and crawled from their pallets. “Whats wrong? ” Hot Pie asked. “Hear what? ” Gendry wanted to know. “Arry had a bad dream, ” someone else said. “No, I heard it, ” she insisted. “A wolf. ” “Arry has wolves in his head, ” sneered Lommy. “Let them howl, ” Gerren said, “theyre out there, were in here. ” Woth agreed. “Never saw no wolf could storm a holdfast. ” Hot Pie was saying, “I never heard nothing. ” “It was a wolf, ” she shouted at them as she yanked on her second boot. “Somethings wrong, someones coming, get up! ” – A Clash of Kings – Arya IV Later, when Jaqen approached her about her 3 deaths-owed, he wakes here from a wolf dream as well.  I do wonder if she was howling in this dream, and this is part of how he realized her identity. These are the first 2 wolf dreams in her story, but certainly not the last. Arya was dreaming of wolves running wild through the wood when a strong hand clamped down over her mouth like smooth warm stone, solid and unyielding. She woke at once, squirming and struggling. "A girl says nothing. a voice whispered close behind her ear. "A girl keeps her lips closed, no one hears, and friends may talk in secret. Yes. A Clash of Kings - Arya VII When the Boltons take over Harrenhal, she reminds us all of her bond with Nymeria by taking her name.  She also prays to the old gods to make her strong like a wolf. She bit her lip, groping for another name. Lommy had called her Lumpyhead, Sansa used Horseface, and her fathers men once dubbed her Arya Underfoot, but she did not think any of those were the sort of name he wanted. “ Nymeria, ” she said. “Only she called me Nan for short. ” […] Arya went to her knees. She wasnt sure how she should begin. She clasped her hands together. Help me, you old gods, she prayed silently. Help me get those men out of the dungeon so we can kill Ser Amory, and bring me home to Winterfell. Make me a water dancer and a wolf and not afraid again, ever. – A Clash of Kings – Arya IX The next time she prays to the old gods for guidance she hears what is likely Nymerias howl and remembers her fathers advice about being with your pack.  This is a strong indication of their bond.  This gives her the courage to take Gendry and Hot Pie as pseudo-pack and go searching for her family at Riverrun. For a long moment there was no sound but the wind and the water and the creak of leaf and limb. And then, far far off, beyond the godswood and the haunted towers and the immense stone walls of Harrenhal, from somewhere out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf. Gooseprickles rose on Arya's skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy. Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father's voice. "When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. he said. "But there is no pack. she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. "I'm not even me now, I'm Nan. A Clash of Kings - Arya X That concludes Nymerias story in ACoK, save for a reminder from Jon about the pack while he contemplates his own imminent death by wildling. His questions about how the wolves sense each other foreshadow the exploration of the magic of the direwolves of Winterfell coming next in ASoS. It will be good to feel warm again, if only for a little while, he told himself while he hacked bare branches from the trunk of a dead tree. Ghost sat on his haunches watching, silent as ever. Will he howl for me when I'm dead, as Bran's wolf howled when he fell? Jon wondered. Will Shaggydog howl, far off in Winterfell, and Grey Wind and Nymeria, wherever they might be. A Clash of Kings Jon VIII Overall Arya and Nymeria's bond remains relatively strong through ACoK, which was somewhat unexpected.  Arya's physical proximity allows it to grow, while Nymeria still is trying to fulfill her role as protector. A Storm of Swords - The Shadow Pack Leader and the Lone Wolf The concept of pack continues to be explored in ASoS as the magic of the wolves is further explained.  We get to see through Summers eyes how he senses his packmates.  Summer has a close enough bond to Shaggy that he knows hes near, but he could only sense the others “sometimes”.  I speculate that this may be partly because Jon and Ghost are beyond the wall.  Still, he knows Lady is dead (the only one who has died at this point.   His “sister” is mentioned as well in the bottom paragraph, though its unclear if he meant Lady or Nymeria.  In other parts of the series Ill discuss the idea that some of the direwolves may have more magic than others. He had a pack as well, once. Five they had been, and a sixth who stood aside. Somewhere down inside him were the sounds the men had given them to tell one from the other, but it was not by their sounds he knew them. He remembered their scents, his brothers and his sisters. They all had smelled alike, had smelled of pack, but each was different too. His angry brother with the hot green eyes was near, the prince felt, though he had not seen him for many hunts. Yet with every sun that set he grew more distant, and he had been the last. The others were far scattered, like leaves blown by the wild wind. Sometimes he could sense them, though, as if they were still with him, only hidden from his sight by a boulder or a stand of trees. He could not smell them, nor hear their howls by night, yet he felt their presence at his back. all but the sister they had lost. His tail drooped when he remembered her. Four now, not five. Four and one more, the white who has no voice. These woods belonged to them, the snowy slopes and stony hills, the great green pines and the golden leaf oaks, the rushing streams and blue lakes fringed with fingers of white frost. But his sister had left the wilds, to walk in the halls of man-rock where other hunters ruled, and once within those halls it was hard to find the path back out. The wolf prince remembered. A Storm of Swords – Bran I In the ASoS Riverlands chapters (Arya, Cat, Jaime) we get a second helping of mentions of Nymerias wolf pack prowling the Riverlands.  This is coupled with discussion of Hot Pie and Gendry being her pack now, reminding us that even though Arya is now several times a killer, she is still also a lost little girl searching for her family.  The word “wolf” is used 52 times; the word “direwolf” is used 18 times the word "wolves" is used 57 times. Of these mentions the following categorizations can be made. Note: Multiple mentions of the same subject in a paragraph or in consecutive paragraphs not counted multiple times. Young Wolf (mention or description) 13 Arya (mention or description) 21 Nymeria Mention (or description) 1 Grey Wind (mention or description) 10 Other Stark Wolves (mention or description) 5 Northmen (mention or description) 20 See a pack 4 Mention A pack 7 Dream 9 Stark's described as Wolves/Skinchangers 8 Stark banner / sigil 7 Heard howls 8 Arya thinks of herself as a wolf a lot in this volume.  We also get a lot of mentions of Robb and his army as wolves.  Direct mentions of Nymeria are sparse, but we do get many mentions of her pack, and we get Nymeria/Aryas first POV wolf dream in her first chapter, followed by many more wolf dreams.  Several dreams are described to us in the chapters, but at one point she mentions dreaming of wolves every night. The first dream is foreshadowed by Arya, Hot Pie and Gendry encountering parts of Nymerias pack but being left unmolested by them. A Storm of Swords - Arya I Gendry's mare lost her footing in the mud once, going down hard on her hindquarters and spilling him from the saddle, but neither horse nor rider was hurt, and Gendry got that stubborn look on his face and mounted right up again. Not long after, they came upon three wolves devouring the corpse of a fawn. When Hot Pie's horse caught the scent, he shied and bolted. Two of the wolves fled as well, but the third raised his head and bared his teeth, prepared to defend his kill. Back off. Arya told Gendry. "Slow, so you don't spook him. They edged their mounts away, until the wolf and his feast were no longer in sight. Only then did she swing about to ride after Hot Pie, who was clinging desperately to the saddle as he crashed through the trees. […] From time to time she sent Hot Pie and Gendry on while she doubled back to try to confuse their trail, listening all the while for the first sign of pursuit. Too slow, she thought to herself, chewing her lip, were going too slow, theyll catch us for certain. Once, from the crest of a ridge, she spied dark shapes crossing a stream in the valley behind them, and for half a heartbeat she feared that Roose Boltons riders were on them, but when she looked again, she realized they were only a pack of wolves. She cupped her hands around her mouth and howled down at them, “Ahooooooooo, ahooooooooo. ” When the largest of the wolves lifted its head and howled back, the sound made Arya shiver. […] She would make much better time on her own, Arya knew, but she could not leave them. They were her pack, her friends, the only living friends that remained to her, and if not for her they would still be safe at Harrenhal, Gendry sweating at his forge and Hot Pie in the kitchens. Continued in Oldest Reply.

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The Wolf Hour

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