Wolfkin

Weaklings, all of them. Need to go inside and warm their paws by the fire after a day in the woods. Need to boil the meat so they canstomach it. They couldn’t stand the breath of the Huntress, so they died like weak pups. All the rot in the world springs from its weakness. Wolfkin and their packs live as it was intended. They hunt. They howl together and beat sticks and drums because their own voices have grown weak. Enough is enough. Wolfkin are leaving to teach the weaklings how everyone should live. And if someone says that the wolfkin did not roam the first forests, they will feel your claws at their throat and you will taste their blood.