Chapter 1. Manwolf.More Like This
The manwolf howled it's tearless cries into the night. The darkness came closer and closer.
In the regions on Hjaalmarch, a young Nord boy, roughly the age of 13, had set up camp in the forrests. He was alone, an orphan no doubt. The boy had blonde wavy hair and eyes as green as an lush summer's grassplain. He wore the coat of an wolf and an dusty and torn cloak to shield him from nature's unrelenting force. He wielded an spear made from an long broken branch.
He sat by the fire, feasting on the squirrel's he had catched 2 hours earlier.
The boy looked around, the trees were blooming, and beside him ran an fox on the hunt. He had grown up in the forrest, never setting foot in the villages. The only family he'd ever had was the wolves in the forrest that seemed to treat him as an member of the pack.
The wild was were he belonged.
Suddenly, He felt an odd chill in the air, ofcourse, this was Skyrim, but it was different. It was the chill of recent death.
He heard deep