Claw navigated Zerul City's more sparsely populated zones and locales with surprising speed and grace for something of his mass, the del’korm cutting swiftly between buildings, surging over a plethora of walls, and launching himself from the occasional low-hanging rooftop or two without so much as a single sound being emitted from his person. He alternated between a two and four-legged stance as needed as he charged onward towards Remdal estate with due haste, all while sustaining an invisible pulsating sphere of magical power that muted all acoustic energies within a fifty-foot radius of his body.

Claw had deliberately waited until nightfall to begin this journey. Traveling with his newly acquired companions would have been the safer option logically, the lot of them effectively functioning as his “escort” to maneuver through the city unmolested by yet more fearful Rodorians armed with makeshift clubs and crude axes---but it would have been the much slower one, too.

And unless he was on the prowl for prey, Claw absolutely [i]dreaded [/i]moving at the speed of men with extreme intensity. Oh, [i]by La’Kan were they slow[/i]! It was not their fault of course: their stride was far shorter than his was, and their shapes, Claw found, were much more suited towards engaging in a superior number of dexterous movements than his---a skill that enabled them to erect constructs and forge weapons with a level of meticulousness that even the most august of Malkor’Kurz’s southernmost metal-shapers and builders could not match.

And so Claw had told Domhnall and the others that he would meet them at the estate, although at the rapidity at which he was moving he was quite positive that he would reach it long before the bulk of the party were scheduled to arrive. One of them, Thomas---the strange human with the del’korm-sized sword---had even mentioned that food and drink would be provided freely. 

That fact alone had enticed Claw so much that he had suddenly found his reluctance to enter an unknown entity's dwelling all but gone. 

<[b]They’ll be there before you. You and I have much to discuss, dearest Ajanok.[/b]>

A misstep; his concentration broken and with it his silencing spell; a startled yelp that rang out across a significant portion of a surrounding residual area. Large sections of stone and wood were torn free as Claw whipped his armored right hand out to his side in a desperate, split-second bid to find purchase with an adjacent wall, yet downward he tumbled, time itself seemingly slowing to a deathly crawl as the hard street below him lurched closer and closer to his face.

[i]Voices in his head? How?[/i]

Knowing full well that he was falling, Claw could only wince his eyes shut in grim anticipation for the immediate arrival of two things: a wave of pain flowing over his whole as he impacted the ground with great force and the panicked bellows of about a half-dozen Zerulians who had been clustered directly below him the very moment he had lost his footing.

...and yet, mysteriously enough, [i]neither [/i]of those things came to be at all. Instead, Claw felt himself utterly awash in a surreal sensation of pure...weightlessness, one that seemed to wane and wax in perfect tandem with the rhythm of his heart. An even eerier feeling of him traveling across implausibly vast stretches of land and water within a fraction of a second introduced itself next, while the world around him, devoid of all light and sound, seemingly spun chaotically too, prompting Claw to suspect that he had been knocked unconscious the very instant he had made landfall, and that all of this was a vivid dream or hallucination of some sort.

A dynamic eruption of illuminance, painful and blinding, forced Claw’s eyes shut and sent a new pang of anxiety coursing through his whole---but the immediate feeling of something that he was all too familiar with, and very much thankful to have in contact with his body at that very moment, set his nerves straight.

[i]Ground.[/i]

Claw began to right himself. The world had stopped spinning. Actual things that verified his existence, such as sound and a direct sense of weight, had returned to his person in full. Still facing the ground, he first gingerly nursed the earth with his clawed hands to verify that he was soundly upon solid earth and that he was, in fact, alive and well, caressing what he suspected to be loose gravel scattered about a hard floor made of cave stone. Satisfied with his findings (and positive that he wasn’t a ghost), he snapped to his full height in one powerful and swift motion, gave his disheveled mane and fur a thorough shake, and opened his eyes to adequately survey his surroundings.

Claw could only stand there motionless, a direct, flat look drawn across his canid face as he peered upwards into the incandescent eyes of the most stunning she-del’korm he had ever seen. Although the cavern that he was in was sparsely lit, he could still see that she was beautiful beyond all reckoning, her face seemingly having been carved by the greatest stone-shapers of Malkor’Kurz’s southern planes. Claw felt himself become further and further enthralled by her arresting visage, yet when his wandering eyes began to scan the rest of her body, his admiration for her divine splendor was momentarily jarred. [i]She was appallingly humanlike in appearance.[/i]

While she stood upright upon a pair of digitigrade legs like all del’korm did, the stranger lacked the distinctive predatory “slouch” that a quotidian member of Claw’s race normally possessed. She was garbed in a loose and modestly revealing two-piece garment that consisted of a diminutive vest that had been clearly tailored more for fashion and less for functionality and an elongated loincloth that covered her front and rear. Both articles of clothing, Claw noticed, had not only been woven from high quality fabrics, but they also bore sewing patterns and icons that he did not recognize as having belonged to any cultural group on Malkor'Kurz. The female's arms, ankles, and neck were showered in many fine examples of golden jewelry, the pieces just as alien and strange in appearance as their wearer was. 

She was also noticeably taller than Claw--something that would have made sense easily to him had she been of pure Deep North stock, yet her physical appearance thus far suggested anything but. The stranger sported a much slenderer and [i]shockingly [/i]much more curvaceous shape than a typical member of her race and sex would conventionally boast, one that stood in stark contrast to the stout and hardy bulk that both male and female del’korm normally maintained in equal measure. Claw did heed an appreciable layer of defined muscle situated just below her soft, slick coat of silver-gilt fur, though this spoke more of someone built more for pure athletics than raw physical strength.

Finished with examining her physicality and sensing no ill-intent from her, Claw edged closer, circled around to her sides and flank, doubled back to her front, and took six quick sniffs of her scent. If anything, this would tell him where she had recently been, and having visited many places across Malkor’Kurz himself, her aroma would hopefully give him some insight as to where she was from and possibly where her tribal or sect allegiances lay.

Claw froze. He sniffed again.

[i]Nothing. [/i][i]She smelled of nothing.[/i]

He took a step back, frustrated by how much of an enigma this person was. She had no smell. How was that possible? [i]Nothing about her made any sense at all. [/i]Scanning her again for anything of informational value, Claw’s attention was drawn to her head from which an impressive mane of tightly-wound box braids terminated from, their collective length extending well past her buttocks, each one adorned with an elaborate grouping of silver tribal hair ornaments that aided superbly in accentuating her exotic appearance. In addition to being quite stylish, Claw was almost immediately relieved when he realized that the hairstyle had been woven in the traditional pattern of many of Malkor’Kurz’s northwestern clans and sects, and therefore informed anyone who was well-versed in the [i]nokaski dom[/i], or the “weave-tongue” as the northwesterners collectively called it, of the wearer’s name, allies, enemies, pedigree, and any honorifics that they happened to go by.
 
Disregarding her disturbing lack of a smell, Claw moved on to her mane. The knowledge that each twist, knot, and adornment that constituted her prominent head hair hoped to convey was clear enough, he thankfully discovered. As Claw worked his hands through the braids, the stranger looked at him leisurely, gently tracking his every movement with her glowing, pupil-less eyes, the barest hint of a del’korm’s coy smile slowly forming across her face. She made no attempt to stop his sudden invasion of her personal space. 

< “Boa’Noktus...”> Claw uttered. He continued to study her mane, coursing his claws through the tightly-wound strands.<“...the Unseen Passion, Daughter of...no one...and life-companion to my Shivering Roar”?>

Claw relinquished his light grip on her hair, paced backwards, and looked directly at her. 

<Not true...not possible,> Claw stammered. <[i]You’re[/i] Boa’Noktus? You created the Fangs! But you being His...you are His--- but none of the sagas that are sung in His praise make mention of La’Kan having a Life Companion---or any companion for that matter. How--->

The female, or Boa’Noktus as he had learned, closed the gap between the two with such blinding speed that she appeared almost as a blur. Before he could fully perceive what had just happened, she was already squatted downward to Claw’s own height and running her own free claw through his own mane. 

<That[i] and oh so much more is true[/i], Ajanok,> she cooed, continuing to motherly course one free hand through Claw’s own mass of braids. <I was His friend, His first, and ultimately His lover, yes? I aided my Shivering Roar during the New Times by seeing what he could not see and being where he could not be. I helped Him fortify this land against both the High Above and the Deep Below by erecting the Void Song, thereby ensuring that Ori’s ilk and whatever crept and crawled beneath would not harm us so. We fought as one against His half-brother, Hel’Rok, many moons ago when he set upon the warpath against Malkor'Kurz, and it was I who assisted Kota'Fo in ridding the del'korm of the foul Soul Plague all those ages ago. And I did all of this...> Boa’Noktus resumed her full height, her unassuming smile now a toothy grin of manic glee and wild anticipation, and spread her bejeweled arms to her sides with an elaborate flourish. 

Claw was immediately struck with awe as the cavernous grotto that surrounded the two was shattered into millions of pieces in an instant, the fragments of rock, both big and small, being ferried upward into the sky by an unseen force. He cast a hand in front of his eyes, shielding them from a sudden barrage of piercing sunlight that doused him from every angle, while the ethereal laughter of Boa’Noktus seemingly echoed all around his immediate position, the cacophony of giggles and yips having no clear source whatsoever. 

<...in faithful service to [i]this[/i].> 

When Claw finally opened his eyes, a gorgeous vista greeted him: Malkor’Kurz in all of its enchanting charm, its rolling plains, gargantuan mountains, and northern jungles working in tandem with its bountiful forests and crystal-clear lakes to illustrate the absolute pinnacle of a free land. He could see three of the forty-two Fangs of Unirihusu, the towering teleportation monoliths erected by Boa’Noktus herself during the New Times to aid the del'korm in forging lasting alliances with one another shortly after the defeat of Ori and the Dri Consortium. 

[i]Home.[/i] He was[i] home.[/i]

Claw freed himself from the entrancing scene displayed before him and turned to look at Boa'Noktus. There she stood, hands folded neatly behind her back and wearing that same mischievous grin that Claw had begun to associate with her. Her saber-shaped tail twitched excitedly behind her periodically. 

<What are [i]you[/i]?> was all Claw could ask. 

Another innocent laugh; another series of bodily movements too quick for mortal eyes to adequately comprehend. She was behind Claw now, her arms wrapped securely around his upper torso in a gentle and surprisingly warm hug. 

<[i]Something [/i]and [i]someone [/i]special,> she whispered into his ear. <But not as special as [i]you[/i], I’d like to think. As I said my sweet Ajanok, you and I have [i]much [/i]to discuss. Fear not, for I will explain everything and answer any and all inquiries that you may have...and then I shall return you to your friends, whole and unharmed, yet laden with the gifts that only a [i]del’tes[/i] can provide!>

With those final words and a seering flash, Boa'Noktus and Claw were nothing more, ferried off to places unknown to all except the Unseen Passion herself.