• Then a wolf howled. Its wail shattered the silence in one pained, spiraling note. It was the perfect manifestation of raw emotion, and it cut him to the core. At this single, desperate cry, tears sprung into the warrior's eyes and slid down his stubble-ridden cheeks, unchecked. To be able to express such passion over something in a single note. It was beautiful. He turned once more to the stained earth behind. If only humans could express such a pure emotion. Such a beautiful passion, but no. The proof lay before him in the contorted, shapeless corpses that stretched as far as even his keen eye could see. Man was cruel. Man was lustful. No man or woman could create such a beauty. Such a beauty that tears seeped from his cold eyes. He'd forgotten how to cry. Or so he'd thought. His worn face turned from the massacre of war, from the massacre of man, and he left, the memory of a howl burning feverishly in his mind.