How had he let this happen? That was the question swirling in his mind, controlling all of his other thoughts. His daughter… she was dead. Hell, all of his children, save for Drizzt, were dead. But Aindreas had seen Pandora as his chance for redemption - if he could only forge a good relationship with her, it would make up for him being a poor father to the rest of his children. And everything had been going according to plan - she had come to him, and they had talked about their feelings… When did Aindreas ever talked about his feelings? Never! But he had been open and honest with her… And then she had… Died. He was staring down at her corpse... He could feel the rage of the Tempest building inside of him, and though he often beat it back down so that it wouldn’t escape, he could not do that this time. This time, he could feel the rage and fury and anger swell to engulf his entire being. He could feel a surge of adrenaline kicking through his veins, fueling him with the power he would need for a fight. And there would be a fight… Not one, not two, but an entire war. The angelic voices of the Arcus Irae had told him about the vampires of course, had warned him that they were his enemy. But now, he had a personal vendetta against them - after all, the queen of the vampires had slain his daughter. He would return to his pack and send out a war cry, and band together all of his kin, all of his fellow Tempest and go on a warpath to their very vampire home. They would be merciless and cause the destruction of the vampire horde. It would not end until they were all dead.

His orbs glowed it brighter than they ever had - they said that the hottest of all fires was the blue fire… And that certainly was true now. Here, in the sunlight of the first days of spring, he swore an oath of vengeance to the gods… He would not rest until he accomplished this goal. Either that… Or he would die attempting to do so. Tears rolled down his face, some from sadness, some from the bitter sweet memories he had of the last few weeks he had with his daughter, and others out of frustration. They stung his eyes, but he did not care - let the pain come. Let it all take over him… Ever since he had changed he had not fully accepted who he was. After all, it had taken so much from him - the happily ever after he was meant to have with Stormy Horizion was gone, decimated by his hearts bond to the soulmate. Despite their mutual feelings for each other, when he now thought of her, he could feel his attention being drawn away. He wanted only to have the choice to live his life and love who he chose… But now, he would let his life be led down the dark trail it was meant to follow. Aindreas tilted his head up toward the gods once more, and a scream, a war cry, pulled itself from his lips.

“I am Aindreas , Aethele of Dierne Hrof. I am one of the original tempests, and the father of many fallen pups. I vow this to you, father Fenris, to bear the crown of my pack and to protect them from my mortal enemy. I vow to protect your truest children, and to remain strong in this war. And to you, mother Tor, I apologize for the deaths that will come of this war. I hope you will think of us and give us wisdom and strength in the coming days… But I also pray to you to keep our families safe while we are away at war. And to all of you vampires, sullied creatures of Hell, I vow to end your lives with pain and suffering.”

With a fierce growl, he snapped at the air to seal his fate and vows, and then turned and ran toward his pack - it was time to tell them what he knew. He did not glance back, did not look at the dead corpse of his daughter. There would be no reason to bring her back to the pack - it had never been a home to her, and he had never truly been a father to her. Nature would claim her where she had fallen dead. Her body would nurture and nourish the land, and give a new hope to that plot. And once she had fully decayed into nothingness, Aindreas would ask Khaleesi to plant a beautiful flower or perhaps tree sapling over her so that he may have a marker by which to visit. But until she was fully gone… He would not have the heart to know the strength to visit her again… It would only serve to remind him of his failures… How innumerable they were. Pounding paws pushed at the soft earth, his claws digging in to the mud to give him some traction. Even so, he found himself slipping and sliding over the earth‘s surface. With the coming of the spring, there had been an melting of the snow and ice. Dirt had turned to a muddy brown soup. The lake in his pack had arisen several feet, nearly flooding his half-brother‘s den. But it was still home… It was still there one sanctuary from the vampires. As he crossed into his territory, exhausted from the long run he had had, he let loose a call, not particularly caring who answered. Everyone would need to find out eventually… They were at war. It was finally his heaving sides, gasping for air in breaths that stopped him. His muscles quivering violently as he slowed to a stand still, and he had to stand wife legged to prevent himself from falling over. Still, he trembled from his fatigue… Yes… But still the overlying theme was his uncontrollable rage. Suddenly, the sound of a snapping twig alerted him to someone’s presence. The king growled and turned to snap at them, but he quit and quickly calmed and lowered his lips when he saw who it was. But still, the fire burned in his eyes… It would not rest, not until they were all dead.