"I can feel it… It's close." Walter murmured to himself as he stepped over the gnarled roots and pushed past the branches. Just recently he had heard of a place that was every druid and hunter's dream. Sparrowhawk would have loved to see this place. Hanging his head for a few moments, there was moment of silence as he remembered the old Eyotian. His second father in spirit, and teacher. Perhaps his spirit had moved on, and become of the myriad beasts of the field. The lycanthorpe wondered to himself on what form that would be. "Perhaps an elk, a mighty stag. He always looked so kindly upon beasts that were prey. Or perhaps a bird, soaring high above the lands." The Virens forest had become more vibrant in these parts, something that felt like it was the work of some greater power. Strong energy flowed through the land, and manifested in the abundance of life. A familiar scent came to him on the wind. A wolf…and a male one at that.

Turning around, he saw the yellow eyes of a large timber wolf gleaming from the underbrush. There was something different about this one, as it approached with steady movements. Now it was in full view, he could sense a new scent coming from it. It was somewhat similar to that girl's, but not entirely. Hers had a harsher edge. The wolf then walked in front of him and moved into the trees, throwing a glance at Walter before moving on. "Alright, I'll follow. You must have something important to tell me if you are willing to come so close." His beastly brother took him through many paths, sometimes going off of them entirely. The woods were at their thickest when it began to thin suddenly. The wolf stopped before a large wooden gate bearing many carvings of animals in the grain. The smell he had caught on the wolf's fur was stronger here. With its purpose fulfilled, the wolf then slipped away into the trees out of sight.

It was a magnificent sight, and Walter reached out to feel the strokes cut into the woodwork. As he admired the detail, his hand passed over to the spot where nothing was carved, and a flood of energy went through his entire being. It was like a mighty wind that passed through one's spirit, and he staggered as he was overwhelmed. Pulling his hand away, he clutched his head as the eyes of all the carved beasts glowed. Then, the gate split open and granted passage to what took his breath away. Everything here was more than he could ever dream of! Freshly cut pine, the rich scent of earth, the sounds of the birds on the branches singing–to the men and woman training with blade and bow or carrying out their duties. He had to snap himself out of his dreaming, as he remembered why he had come. There was a small pack of parchments that needed delivering, and he was instructed to ensure it personally reached the hands of the master of the keep.

Busy, this is would be the word that described the god’s life now.

The scope of what he had become had just more and more recently hit him, it was exhausting and tiring. There was times where he wish that he could just get away and just let those he left in charge handle it, but he knew that would not set right with himself. Yet, through all this new work and responsibility he was happy. Zanar had felt a connection than what words could even described. His ascension changed him, to be a better man.

He was in a meeting with some of the Keep Rangers when he first felt a presence at the gate that was unfamiliar to him. He turned to look at the massive gate, waiting to see if the magics would accept the visitor. He smiled and turned back to the men who were waiting for him to continue, ”That will be all for now, other matters have come to my attention,” He dismissed them. Bowing they scattered off to their separate posts as the Gate started to open. Zanar grabbed his overcoat from the table and threw it on adjusting it and the sigiled leather shoulder pad over his forest green tunic.

Approaching the now open gates, he could see the man who entered just stop and look around. He was probably entranced at the grounds. “Magnificent isn’t it?,” Zanar questioned, “A sanctuary for those who call themselves hunters. Everything they need to hone their art is part of these grounds.”

He could smell the same, yet different, cursed blood that flowed through both of their veins. The smell was familiar, the scent of the timber wolves that guided people through to the gates. This man was a lycanthrope unlike Zanar who was an Ursanthrope. It mattered not to him though, “There is only one thing that is required out of those who visit these grounds. They pay respect to that which they hunter. Every part of whatever beast they fell is to be used, nothing is to go to waste. But this is what will help them to be a better hunter.”

”Now what may the god of the hunt do for you my shifter brother,” He stated with a slight and tapped the end of his nose with his finger a few times. ”Sadly it is hard for us to hide from each other, we have that lovely scent to our being. Though I am not too sure about myself these days.” He joked with the man.

Some one called to him, and he turned to see a man with the scent from the keep itself. It was him then, without a doubt. "Yes, it is. I'm sure my father would have loved to see this place–both my father by blood and my father in spirit." What surprised Walter was how the man could tell he bore a wolf's blood, but soon figured out that like beings could recognize each other easily. "You almost gave me a scare, ha ha! Here I was wondering how you knew so quickly. Which beast's spirit do you hold, brother? My father was a wolf by birth, and the same goes for me." Reaching into his pack, he carefully pulled out the parchments he had been sent to deliver. "A friend of mine asked me to come give this to the master of this keep. I didn't look at it, but I hope it is good news."

The parchments Walter had been given were a hastily assembled pamphlet, with the first page looking more like a sensational advertisement. There were detailed hand-drawn pictures of statues designed to resemble animals, and various scenes for which they could be used. The writing pitched them as…home decor? The statues were said to be made from the best mahogany, oak, maple, and black pine the forests of the world could offer–then treated with a special process to protect against rot and decay. The set that was being 'sold' had twenty pieces. Two were shaped like crows, four were reminiscent of totem poles, and the other fourteen were various other woodland animals. "What is this?" Walter was confused when he finally saw what he was supposed to hand over. 

At the last page of what also proved to be a detailed user's manual for a 'home surveillance system', there was a stamp with the seal of Antikythera surrounded by the words: 'Quality craftsmanship guaranteed'. Then there was a commotion as strange things appeared around or in the keep! Twenty statues as depicted in the pamphlet warped into existence, and all had the same carving of the seal. Apparently this was supposed to be a special gift from one of the other deities. A small greenish colored wyvern the size of a cat flapped overhead and dove down, smacking into Walter's face. Attached to it was a note in scribbled handwriting: 'One more thing.' "One more of what?" A large portal opened in the sky and a large wooden crate crashed into the ground, splitting open to reveal a life-sized replica of a brown bear on its hind legs. What hit him next wasn't the sound, but the smell. A very pungent scent of a male bear wafted through the open air. The base of this statue had an empty space for a name.