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The Fenrir tribe, rulers of the Great Savannah, had two heirs: Skoll and Hati.
Born twins, they had drawn their first breath on the same day and hour, yet they were opposites in every way. Hati’s fur was black as the night sky, while Skoll’s was white as the snow-covered tundra.
Their natures clashed just as starkly. Hati was honest and pure, Skoll sly and cunning. Hati trained in swift, cutting footwork, while Skoll honed in heavy, destructive strikes. From head to toe, there wasn’t a single trait that they shared in common.
Thus, the two had been rivals since childhood. They snarled over the same prey so often it wasn’t even worth pointing out anymore, and more times than they could count on their fingers and toes, their sparring “matches” had landed them in bed with injuries.
They liked different colors. They liked different foods. Most of all, their outlook on the savanna itself was as different as heaven and earth.
Here was a good example of that. In one of the most lavish tents of the Fenrir tribe, a man knelt before Skoll and laid out the gifts he had brought.
“Lord Skoll, please accept this humble token of my respect.”
Gold ornaments and bottles of fine liquor lined the floor. Catching the...
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