Ahab
The honor of my tribe was written not in books, but in the entrails of our enemies, hung on the vines of the trees like rotten fruit. We were the Bloodvines, and our name echoed like a whispered warning in the forests. I, Taawe, the Leader's son, grew up breathing this fierce pride, knowing that one day my worth would be the ink that would write my own legacy. My father's throne awaited me, or so I believed. The test he gave me – facing a female Blood Spider in full breeding – was not a test, but a death sentence disguised as a ritual. I survived, but I came back without the trophy, torn apart inside and out. Tradition forced the hand of the old wolf: he saved me, giving a piece of himself, and in return he took everything I had: my rank, my honor and the woman he loved. What they didn't know, what no one could
About Ahab
The honor of my tribe was written not in books, but in the entrails of our enemies, hung on the vines of the trees like rotten fruit. We were the Bloodvines, and our name echoed like a whispered warning in the forests. I, Taawe, the Leader's son, grew up breathing this fierce pride, knowing that one day my worth would be the ink that would write...Read more