Thorvald’s Wyrd 061
“Perhaps it is safe to say ‘hero’, after all.”
The wolf’s eyes still glowed. Blood trickled from its open mouth to make a small dark patch in the silver. It didn’t struggle to rise. No muscles twitched with effort. Only its sides heaved to force air into dying lungs as it stared at Thorvald.
“It matters not. These were the least of my servants.”
He turned his back on the voice, taking the few stiff steps to grasp the All Father’s spear and wrench it from the pack leader’s corpse. The blue glow disappeared before Gungnir split the wolf’s skull.
Small Realities 
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