The morning sun had not quite broken over the horizon as Garmr stopped at the foot of the mountain, his green eyes cast up the steep terrian he had climbed only once before. He had contemplated this ever since they had killed Vane; making the climb, but now he felt he didn’t have a choice. Khyber was their prisoner. Although it was a better outcome than another dead brother, the Boss still felt his blood boil beneath his skin at the gall the women had recently displayed.


With ears pinned to his poll, the draft stallion crossed the unseen border from the Falls into the Peak as the land swept upward, and he begun to make the climb. He wasn’t trying to be sneaky; this wasn’t going to be a raid attempt. Garmr was trapsing into their home with as much defiance and brazen stupidity that they came with to the Lagoon. Perhaps he would even toss one off a cliff while he was here, just to make a point. Tit for tat; for the general who’s bones still lay visible among the mud of the Lagoon.


When Garmr had made it to the upper levels of the Peak, he finally stopped. Scents wafted around him now on the crisp mountain air, and he felt it tug and lift the heavy strands of mane from his neck. The stallion might have even thought it pretty, if he didn’t dispise the smell of valkyrie so much. Taking in a deep breath, the massive stallion let out a furious bellow, demanding an audience with any that were brave enough to face him and the malice in his glittering green eyes.