He slipped into the blightwolf’s skull.
“Animrco,” whispered the blacksmith’s wife. The word spread like frost. animrco
He found the Sundering’s heart: not a place, but a forgotten Animrco who had frayed into a mountain a thousand years ago and never come back. The mountain had grown mad. Its earthquakes were its nightmares. He slipped into the blightwolf’s skull