‘Oh, Lady, bright lady, we drink to you who guide our steps. Moon of silvery intent we hail and hail to you.’
Sour steam billows in thick blankets from atop their goblets held high in toast.
Fenris continued his advance, but the fumes from the brew began to sneak around his nose and he caught a whiff that set his senses on fire.
Vidar brought another glass to his lips and stopped. Looking at Skadhi, who smiled with raised glass, when she, too, paused to look around and see what might be wrong.
The Wolf saw the slight reaction from the warriors of Asgard and leapt into the midst of gods and goddesses who quickly picked up their swords.
Kicking up the largest boulder with his powerful hind legs, Fame-Wolf, Fenrir, Father of Wolves, pushed off. Although the Venir are revered, they were not quite fast enough to touch the soaring mass of muscle that is the King Wolf. Aiming high, the moon shadow was in his sights.
Mighty god, Tyr, son of Odin, reached with the tip of his magic sword, just scrapping the thick hide of the beast, and the blood that dripped fell as acid on his arm. Drawing back in pain, he tried again but it was too late. Fenris had barred his fangs-those that glistened in the light of the fire, and bit into mother moon.
Hanging on, Fenris dug in deeper with his teeth, and although all below shouted and jumped to reach, they could not touch the strong and quick monster.”
Around the fire all motion stopped and the coven was quiet. The Priestess had them listening close for the ending that was sure to come…