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It felt good to indulge for a change. So cathartic. Instead of holding back. Worrying about what others might think. What consequences might follow. What new webs he might need to spin.

A true god did not need to bother with such things, surely. Was this how Hada felt all the time?

It wasn't healthy, of course. Ettol knew that. Hada was not a role model. The God of Wrath had suffered plenty of blowback for his behavior--some of it at Ettol's own hands.

But he had no interest in any of that, right now.

And he shouldn't waste this chance, either. As much as tended to ruin things, there was also opportunity here. So much could be accomplished in these preciously rare moments when he didn't have to hold back.

When he didn't have to be the reasonable one, anymore.

The Windlight surged as he kept drawing on it. More. More. Deeper than he'd pulled in Ages--perhaps even deeper than this incarnation may ever get to try again.

Ettol's gaze fell upon the wolf. Sitting there in silence, watching as always.

An impenetrable fortress, that one. Even when suppressed.

But maybe now. In this moment a full indulgence. A seed could be sown. A psychic connection.

It was a risk, naturally. He truly did not know if he could even control it, much less if it would actually work. But if the wolf was to spell his inevitable doom, regardless, then was it not worth the try?

Damian was discarded. Left to fall, slowly, to the floor. Time was no longer itself. No longer so oppressive. Ettol moved at his own pace. Walking over to the wolf.

Ettol found the creature's head and went to work. A psychic incursion.

Instantly rebuffed.

As expected.

The Void's influence over the wolf was mercilessly strong. The others all said it was impossible to undermine.

But Ettol had never believed. Not fully. He still remembered the early days. When the wolf loved them all, not just their "father."

The Void did not create you, Koh. You were your own beast with your own mind.

The Prime Hunt was not all your existence amounted to.

Nothing. No response. No resonance.

Ettol took his time mourning yet another failure. There was no rush. He sat with the animal for a while. Just reminiscing on simpler times.

And then he moved on again.

To Nerovoy.