He had done it just once in the past, but the Wolf God remembered it as if it was yesterday. The last time, he’d experienced utterly different emotions, though. Back then, he still had hope and thought that he was fighting for a better future. Moreover, Fenrir believed he was the one building it. The life of his dreams was just one step away, and his happiness was so close he could almost touch it.
Everything was different now. It wasn't his war, and his kind lived for so long without his presence that it seemed he did not have a place here anymore. Fenrir did not see the point in this war or any other for that matter. No war in the centuries he’d existed made anyone happy. He knew it better than anyone. He’d won so many of those in the past, but he was still as broken and empty as ever.
