For the first time in years, Valentius was alone. Renald had gone back to the dwarves a couple of hours ago. Valentius was there, on Albert's blanket, and tried to think about anything else but the fact that his world was turned on its axis.
Albert had left him. Marek was going somewhere. His mana an echo.
Amos and Nero were in Nightfall. Of that much, Valentius was certain.
The only creature by his side was Brutus. The wolf stood by him, keeping watch. Valentius placed a hand on the black pelt and ran his fingers through it.
Only for Brutus to snap at his fingers.
Valentius was like hypnotized. He looked at his hand, which was in the wolf's maw. The animal was not applying any pressure.
Just holding it there. Just giving him a warning.
"I have to do something," Valentius murmured. Brutus huffed, letting his hand go. "But I don't know what."
Brutus took hold of Valentius' sleeve and tugged him up.
"Wrath has to fall," Valentius thought. "But he is powerful."
