His canines were monstrous fangs. He surveyed the two Blood Claws for a second and the fighting stopped. You're wanted back at the Fang.’ he said. We're flattered that you came all this way to get us.’ said Sven. Over the past few years, they had all lost some of their awe of meir leader. 'Has our liege Berek Thunderfist decided that he needs a bigger audience when the skalds sing his bloody praises?'
You should watch your tongue, youth.’ said Hakon, 'or Lord Berek might rip it out. He always had a bit of a temper that one. Or I might do it myself, if you don't show some respect for your elders.’ Hakon's voice was a flat and flinty as ever. Sven's cheerfully ugly face lost some of its cheeky expression at the sergeant's tone. Perhaps he had not quite lost all awe of the old man, Ragnar thought. *Why have we been summoned?' asked Ragnar. It was not every day that a veteran sergeant and a gunship was dis- patched to recover two Blood Claws on a hunting expedition. 'It's not just you.’ said Hakon. 'Every Wolf on the planet has been called back to the Fang.’ 'Every one?'
The sergeant nodded.
'Must be something big,' said Sven.
'Aye, youth, must be. Such a thing has not happened since you and your friends discovered that Chaos nest under Daemon Spire Mountain, and that was the first time that had happened in over a century.’ 'It's nice to know we've brought a bit of excitement into your otherwise dull lives.’ said Sven. 'Get in. You're not the only cubs I have to pick up today.’ the sergeant said. Ragnar followed Sven into the innards of the armoured gunship and strapped himself in. 'Who's he calling a bloody cub?' muttered Sven. 'About time we were made Grey Hunters, that's what I think.’ 'Do you have an idea what all this is about?' asked Aenar Hellstrom brightly from across the hold. His oval face looked almost obnoxiously young and cheerful. Aenar was part of the most recent intake of Blood Claws to Lord Berek's company. A whole new pack of them, the second Ragnar had seen since his own acceptance by Lord Berek. Looking around he could see a couple of other members of the pack - the saturnine Torvald and the massive brute everyone just called Troll.
Sven grunted, not wanting to reveal his ignorance to one of the cubs, as they thought of the youngsters. It would not do. After all, he and Sven and Strybjorn were veterans of sorts, the oldest Blood Claw pack, and Aenar and his ilk had not even been off-planet yet. Aenar whooped as the Thun-derhawk shuddered and roared its way through a patch of turbulence. Was I ever like that, Ragnar wondered with all the world-weariness of his extra five years? It's a wonder that Hakon did not shoot me.
Ragnar exchanged knowing glances with Sven who looked as if he were about to cuff the younger Blood Claw. Ragnar glanced around the inner cabin of the Thunder-hawk. It was indeed a strange mix the gunship had picked up on its trip around the wastes.