[img]http://i.imgur.com/VzCeixM.jpg[/img]

The wind whistled through the trees, rolling the dead leaves across the forest floor and playing with the hair of a man sitting at the forest’s edge. The wood was small and made up of stunted oaks and sycamores. Here and there, a bird dared to show its face to check whether Winter was really gone or an early rising fox stuck its head out of its den. On the horizon, the sun set the sky on fire as it set, shining off the roofs of a turkey farm. The man, sitting on a fallen tree with a sheathed sword across his lap, was glaring at the turkey farm with unflinching attention. Now and then, the few workers still present would glance in his direction uneasily. A man with a sword is always intimidating, even more so when he’s staring at your workplace with bloody murder in his eyes.

The man’s name is Taranis and, technically, he isn’t a man. The word god doesn’t necessarily come to mind when observing a bear-like, shirtless man with a mane of twig infested hair and an expression of contained fury. But for the past several millennia, Taranis has been on of Mother Earth’s champions, sadly absent from this earth since 500BCE. Having only recently returned to his home realm, Taranis has found things much changed. The people were taller, healthier and live longer but the woods are smaller, sicker and far rarer. Still, Taranis understood the need to expand and build up cities and towns, especially now there are so many people. For the most part, he was happy with how the earth had fared during his pantheon’s absence. Until he asked one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. handlers how man had access to such much meat, so many eggs and so much milk. Before long, he was introduced to the concept of domesticated animals, battery farming and the wonders of the dairy farm.

For near a month now, Taranis has been moodily stalking the land, glowering at poultry farmers, shooting daggers at dairy owners and grumpily contemplating petting zoos. Mostly, he wants to tear the buildings down, free the animals and shatter the whole system. But even in his moments of greatest rage, Taranis is a not a naturally impulsive man. A second’s thought brings up a dozen problems; the animals wouldn’t know what to do with freedom, people would go hungry and famine would crush the poorest of the nation. So he sits and glares and thinks, listening for any messages from Mother Earth. She has been strangely quiet for some time now.

And then… he feels it. A tremor, through every living being. There is no earthquake, no disaster, just a momentary feeling of unease. Squirrels stop munching on nuts for a moment, dogs let balls drop from their mouths. And Taranis, alone in a country forest feels, something change in the wind. Something new, or perhaps something very old, stands upon the earth. And it is looking for Taranis.

With a muttered curse, he stands and pats the nearest tree with his hand. “There is a curse; may you live in interesting times. Seems things are about to get interesting, wouldn’t you say?” There is no audible reply but Taranis smiles and shakes his head. In a couple of moments, the wind builds up, going from a gentle breeze to a roaring gale. Seconds later, he is a dot high up in the air, soaring southwards on an angry new wind.