In the frozen north there is little beauty, the pallid blanket of snow over rugged stony earth. Cracks in the stone let out thin streams of cold air and blow thin fogs of white and grey over a black and white landscape, making it out to be blurry and difficult to pick one location from another. This homeland of Pikatok is her wastrel paradise, her comfort in the absolute cold is tantamount to the survival of all things.
The silently humming gateway behind her enormous throne of stone is the thinnest point of the barrier between spirits and men. If just anyone were allowed through completely unchecked they could unleash Hell on Earth. Guarded solely by the shaggy beast woman, a goliath among men. The culmination of all shamanistic power that should have been distributed among the guardians of every other gate.
Those gates have since lost their guardians, and the gateway in the North is the only one known to all.
This morning she'd left home without a word, still fuming over the recent events of the funeral at Pundambaya. She hadn't dropped her bestial form since two days prior and hadn't said a word since the burial. Having been insulted and unable to do anything about it, Pikatok's mood was quite fowl. So much so that she'd made herself more dangerous, adding spines and poison and even some chemical sprays to her body. She was feeling incredibly spiteful and angry, ready to tear the head off of anyone who dared to approach her gateway.
In the throne she scrapped her claws against the stone, scoring their surface with a dull scraping rumble. Her eyes narrow and scanning, there wasn't much other way they could approach her save the narrow pass. Wind blew through her enormous mane and shook her hair wildly, exposing the dark bronze of her skin at the thinner points of the hair. The brown leather thong where she'd carry her anchor was bare, the massive slab of rusted iron and coral lay resting on the right side of the throne. Her dim green glow enveloped the entirety of the chair, her frustrations emboldening its brightness and intensity.
Today felt off, and a pit in her stomach told her she wasn't finished being angry.