Wulf could feel Scorn begin to stir, it didn’t take long for him to begin struggling. Wulf tightened his grip, not allowing Scorn any chance to escape.
They put out the Call Scorn, and you ignored it… again!
Scorn kept struggling.
What is wrong with you?
Scorn finally spoke. That is none of your concern Wulf, my business is my own.
You can’t keep killing people! Tchi’il was the Tcha’Ghough’s best chance at progress and you just up and murdered him. Now that whole tribe going to starve and die because of your cruelty. And no, don’t say this isn’t my concern, this time you crossed the line, you’re in trouble. When we figure out what’s going on down south we’re going to have a nice long chat, whether you like it or not.
Scorn’s struggles became stronger. I don’t need to explain myself.
What happened to you Scorn? What happened to that brilliant scientist? As you are now you’re no better than a feral dog with a large vocabulary.
Why must you interfere with my work?
Work!? It’s slaughter! These people are in the flowering days of youth, a whole new species of intelligent life and you seem hell bent on snuffing them out.
I refuse to justify myself!
Very well, if you refuse to see reason then I will carry you to Alcadon, if you attempt to escape then I will bludgeon you again.
Scorn began rocking his body, throwing his weight around, trying to knock Wulf off balance.
Scorn, give it a rest.
I cannot! I’m needed here!
Wulf heaved a massive sigh and pulled Scorn from over his shoulder. I’m sorry old friend. Wulf hefted his club and laid a massive blow to the top of Scorn’s head.
Scorn went limp.
Wulf set off once more at a brisk jog toward the city of Alcadon.
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