JamieWolfe7

The night is clear with a pale moon illuminating the reservation. Behind the town, the river lazily courses with pristine water laden with fisherman's treasure. Only one is out there this evening to appreciate it, and he isn't alone.

The beast sits crouched beside the river. Hunting has been poor and it hungers. It doesn't like being so close to the lands claimed by humans, but recently a mixture of curiosity and necessity has driven it forth.

The two legged mass of fur and fang watches a human fishing the river near the village, its nose twitching as it studies him by moonlight. It sees perfectly in the dark, and it can hear him perfectly fine as well. The man sings Hickory Wind as he draws in his latest catch, a fish flopping for dear life as it's reigned in to be netted then depositted into a cooler.

The beast creeps into the river, its course decided. It swims silently, only its black furred head above water as it makes a diagonal path to bring it nearer to the man. Its yellow eyes glimmer in the dark as it endeavors to keep its lupine snout above water where it can breathe. The man remains blissfully oblivious, the eyes in the dark just another glimmer in the moonlit night.

"All the riches and pleasures, what else can life bring? But makes me feel better each time you begin...callin' me home, hick-ory wind..." the man's basso voice rings out in the pristine evening, his offkey rendition of Gram Parson's classic is delivered with the blissful knowledge of the absence of any meaningful critics.

His attention is called by a brief but heavy scraping noise nearby. The scent of wet fur hangs in the breeze and he's suddenly less comfortable in his surroundings, deciding then to start packing up. He rationalizes it in his head that he's been out late enough.

Winding up his rod and reel, he sets it down to pack up his empty bottles in his drink cooler and close up his bigger fish cooler. He'd have to make two trips, but he shrugs off the feeling of eyes in the dark that worries him over this. He's always been a good neighbor here, never leaving a mess. Glass bottles net a good price, thats one of the reasons he prefers them to cans aside from just tasting better.

He rattles up the path to the woodline from the river where his pick up truck awaits. He sets his drink cooler, foldup chair, and rod and reel in the back, the fish cooler being considerably heavier. Once thats done, he makes the walk back down to get the night's prizes. It hadn't been a bad night.

Leaning over to take hold of the container heavy from water and fish, he mutters words of encouragement to himself as he hefts up the evening's haul. As he turns, he senses movement in the dark long before he sees it. A thing of bestial fury knocks him down, spilling his booty all over him and for reasons he can't place he notices that two of his fish make itback into the river through a mix of fortune and effort.

He swiftly recovers his wind from having a crate full of water land on him and spilled over his face, scrambling as much from panic driven instinct as anything else. Scrambling away and to his feet in a near blind effort to reach the safety of his truck, he pulls the only defensive implement on him: his knife. The snarling black thing appears for all the world like a creature of myth with its lupine features atop a thickly furred bipedal frame emanating feral power.

It settles down onto massive hind legs that seem to him inverted like those of a canine, its mighty arms spreading wide as its baleful yellow eyes seem to size him up. He knows its about to pounce as he holds the knife at the ready while backpedalling up the ridge to his truck. His only chance if it does is to skewer it on his blade, sharp for cutting lines and ropes.

Such massive hands, he thinks as he nears his truck. The creature seems to think better of lunging as he keeps the knife pointed towards it, as if it knows what it is. Instead it advances on all fours like a strange looking bear, the strangest he'd ever laid eyes on and they aren't unknown in his parts. Bears don't have fingers like those, he ackowledges. Clawed fingers as much for flaying as grasping and twisting. Twist my arm right off, he knows.

As he reaches his truck, he gives a cry for help while grabbing the handle of his truck, praying in his head that it doesn't stick. The creature growls low and deep, the matted fur on its back raising menacingly, the man swears its stink just got stronger. He yanks on the door, finding only betrayal at first which the beast answers by lowering on its haunches and barking with a sound that wierdly lay somewhere between a coyote and a massive dog.

As the beast barks again, he throws the door open and makes to throw himself in with another cry for help. This time the beast lunges, but he manages to get the door half closed sparing him the teeth that bite and claws that scratch. Unfortunately, his world turns to pain anyway as the door slams under the weight of the monster on his leg and there's nothing he can do for it as he faces up at the lycanthropic visage snarling down at him through the window where it presses against the door as if meaning to tear through it. By the scraping of its terrible claws, it likely does.

After several long seconds of pounding and scraping, the beast registers the meat dangling and pinned in the door and seizes it. The man nearly faints with terror as he's drug out the door flailing wildly and screaming where it pins him under a seeming disproportionately large paw. Standing on him with its attention fixed on its prize, his screaming ceases from ribs cracking under its weight, the wind driven out of him rendering him mute to express his pain as it starts mangling the leg in its grasp. He feels his leg being twisted and snapped in its unfathomably strong hands, then as its jaws close on his ankle a shot rings out and he knows that there is a god watching out for him after all.

***

Parna and Tara walk the woodline next to the general store of the town. The sun has just crested the horizon and the two have gotten an early start deciding where they want their school. Parna is more quiet and contemplative than usual this morning as they walk the site they are keen on with cups of coffee in hand.

The evergreen forest is well managed, so there isn't terribly much in the way of undergrowth. The father and daughter duo step casually along straw covered floor, sipping from their cups as they visualize what they place will eventually look like.Tara smiles quietly as her dad strokes his handlebar mustache.

"I think it should be open air. Not very big, but everyone should be welcome to see what we do," offers Tara with a smile.

Parna answers a bit more solemnly,"Tara, there are some things we have never spoken of. Your mother and I, we think its time."

Tara's expression fades slightly at this, noting the concern in his voice. She replies in a modest tone,"Oh? What's wrong?"

Before he can reply, the sherrif's truck pulls in in a tear. The reservation deputy is a stout man not much taller than Parna named Jacob Strongbull. His expression is one of worry as he calls over to them,"Hey, Parna! Tara! I need you two over here for a sec!"

Conversation forgotten for a moment, they step over to see what's wrong. The man leans out his window and proceeds to enlighten them,"Laughing Crow's dad is in the hospital, something out here attacked him. Went at his leg like a thigh on a rotisserie, I want you two to be real careful, ok?"

Tara's expression immediately becomes one of concern as she asks,"We will, do they know what it was? Is he ok?"

The lawman waves his hand a little as he replies,"He's fine for now, they think it was a bear. It damaged his truck some and one of the boys in the station got a halfassed look at it. He's lucky my man heard him, we've told him to be careful fishing down there at night but he never did listen."

Parna exhales nasally, shaking his head in dismay as Tara folds her arms. She observes,"Well, we know where his son got it from."

Strongbull chuckles awkwardly in agreement, then tells them sternly,"Be careful. You hear anything strange in these woods, I don't think I have to tell you how good kickboxing is against an animal whose fur can stop a small caliber bullet. You get out of there, y'hear?"

They both nod in agreement, with Parna clapping the big indian on his bicep before the man takes off. The old diesel truck pulls off with a low roar as the lawman heads to likely warn anyone else he finds in the woods. An ironic duty in a community situated within the forest, reflects Parna.

Tara sips on her coffee, observing,"It's starting to be cool anyway. We should head back."

Parna nods his reply, albeit reluctantly. With a hand in his pocket, he keeps one free to tote the morning brew as he makes his way back with his daughter. The trip back would go pleasantly quiet in spite of the baleful eyes in the forest that neither notices when they turn away, Parna's conversation forgotten for the time being.

@comicstooge@cbishop@tommythehitman@waezi2@heroup2112@impurestcheese

The three of them make their way back to the town in quick order, the elder bearing a troubled look as they go. The trio head to the soda jerk, Tara helping the elder with his arm around her shoulders for support. Once they got there, Tara's mom Laura greeted them with a table near the door for Standing Bear to take a seat.

Laura is a woman with piercing eyes that seem black from a distance, being only slightly lighter than her raven hair. She stands a head taller than her husband Parna and while possessing the strong hands and jaw of a self reliant lady she nevertheless manages to seem willowy next to the boulder she calls a husband. Her tone is darker than most from hours outside working her garden and gathering the things she needs for her herbalist craft.

"Is he ok? I've told him about those long walks of his, he shouldn't exhert himself so much," Chides Laura with a pointed look at the old native.

Standing Bear dismisses her with a wave of his hand as his breath quickly returns before replying in his own tongue,"I'm fine I'm fine, we just walked with more haste than normal."

Laura blinks at that, then looks to her husband and asks,"Is there a reason you hurried Standing Bear back here?"

Parna rightens himself at the insinuation,"I hurried noone. He heard a wolf and suggested we hurry back."

Laura huffs at that, turning away to go and fix the elder a glass of water. Most days she works the soda saloon when there's no need for her role as the town apothecary. Today is no exception as she quickly returns to bring the old man his glass on the house, quipping,"There's no wolves here, you all heard a dog or coyote."

Tara is quick to retort,"There's no coyotes either. We heard what we heard."

Laura shakes her head with amusement, convinced of their collective imaginations. Parna looks to his daughter as he folds his hands and takes on a serious expression. Tara raises her brows as she wonders what's impending.

Parna addresses her in his native tongue for privacy from the surrounding people,"I would like to offer you my blessings if you wish to teach..."

Tara blinks in surprise, wondering where this came from. When she says nothing, he continues,"My condition is that you build the school with your own hands. I'll help you of course, but this is my price. The price to be recognized as Kru Blackwolf."

Tara nods excitedly, positively radiating her joy at the endorsement from her father. Laura looks on with suspicion at what she's in the dark about, meanwhile Standing Bear just grins. The old man has a knowing glint to his eyes, having put the bug in the fight master's ear in the first place. He doesn't speak Thai, but some things need no translation.

Parna looks to his wife when Tara settles back down, explaining,"I would like Tara to be a teacher, but the school will be built by hand. If it is to be her school, it must be in truth."

About that time, a trio of young local men approach. They crowd over Laura with mocking smiles beneath cowboy hats and over matching blue bandanas wrapped around their necks like masks ready to be donned. The leader of the three is a young man in his early twenties named Laughing Crow.

"So what your little girl gonna teach us, huh? She fight good, but maybe she show us something else, no?" Laughing Crow grins as he intrudes on the conversation, and Tara rises to her feet with fists balled.

Parna holds her back with a raised hand, and Standing Bear raises both of his to take charge as the present adult,"Her father has been teaching her a way we could benefit from. It is not so different from that of our ancestors."

Laughing Crow feigns shock at his words, then leans towards Tara as Laura glowers at him and his friends. He's roughly her height and the three are built and dressed in the manner of lumberjacks,"Really? Maybe she could show us! Show us what a halfbreed girl and her mohawked dad have to teach us primitives. What say you?"

Standing Bear just fixes the three with the look of an elder offended on the Chietsonkrits' behalf. He simply says,"If I were still their age, I would do myself what they would like to."

Laura intones through clenched teeth,"Outside. All of you."

They waste no time stepping outside, the three men making their way to the dirt road outside. Tara steps out to meet them while Standing Bear drags a chair out to watch next to Parna and Laura. Laughing Crow grins while his two buddies stand off behind him with similar expressions.

The sky is clear sunshine, the evergreen forest surrounding the town sways in a breeze that noone feels at first until it kicks up a small dust dervish amidst the squared off pugilists. Laughing Crow strikes a grin worthy of his name as he gestures at her to bring it on as he hands off his wide fedora.

Tara brings steps up to him in a blur of motion, stopping just shy of him in a traditional stance of thai boxing. Her feet are spread more than shoulder width with her weight shifted to favor her rear leg and her fists at the ready. Laughing Crow responds by bouncing back from her almost belatedly, taking up a classic boxing stance as he does.

"Whoa, shit girl! Let's see if you hit as hard as you are quick, eh?" Laughing Crow snarks. He bounces back to her with a probing straight punch intended for her midriff immediately thereafter. She notes that he clearly has some ability, but he's as void of respect as his words suggest.

Tara counters his openning attack, taking advantage of his foot placement as her lead hand snakes around his wrist while she side steps his intro. In one motion, she yanks on his arm while spinning on heel to send her rear foot low at the back of his lead leg and send him to the ground under his own inertia.

Laughing Crow pushes himself off the dirt with a spit before swearing and demanding,"What the hell kind of kickboxing is that?"

Tara replies calmly as she squares off anew,"My kind. You're slow."

Laughing Crow isn't laughing as he comes at her with a flurry of straight jabs and crosses that she skillfully avoids via bobbing and weaving. He keeps his feet beneath him, never quite overreaching but once she discerns his pattern she plants her lead foot and stiff arms him over it to send him to the dirt once again.

This time when he gets back up he goes for the spear, rolling to his feet where he charges head long at her. That earns a kickboxing response as she side steps his rush to throw a kick at his midriff. Before he can turn around to try something else she rears and throws a horse kick square at the middle of his back, her lead foot raising to present her heel as she bounds forward off the rear to throw all of her weight and force behind it. She strikes with certainty, his arms splaying as his head snaps back when he finds himself driven forward several feet.

He lays there groaning this time, reaching for his back,"Oh you bitch...I think I slipped a disc..."

Tara shakes her head as she intones,"Quit being dramatic, I didn't hit you as hard as I could have."

Parna steps over to him just to be safe, a hand resting on the man's shoulder as he lifts his shirt to take a look. Standing Bear chastises him while he's checked out by the thai fight master in native tongue,"You provoked and now you complain? You should be ashamed. You sought to demean her and her father before the tribe and now it is you with dirt in your eye. Stop acting like the white man and clean yourself off."

Parna claps him on the shoulder as his friends help him to his feet and set his hat back on his head. He looks ready to scream as Standing Bear tells him with an outstretched finger,"When she opens her school, you're going to be a student."

Laughing Crow protests as he stalks away from his friends and Parna towards the elder,"I'm not learning how to fight from some girl! Name one woman in all that history you're so proud of that became a warrior!"

Standing Bear stares a hole through the young man with his dark gaze. The youth was right in a sense, it hadn't happened to his recollection. Nevertheless he replied,"Your pride is why you're covered in dust. We must change, or bitterness will consume us. It's a poison. They could not kill our language or make us forget, so they continue to feed us reasons to hate and hope we choke on bile. We must do nothing they want of us, hate is a poison that blinds and cripples. You and your friends must stop this nonsense."

Laughing Crow just returned his stare, not commenting as he knew better than to continue the spectacle that had just resulted in his embarrassment. So after a long moment he worldlessly walked down the dirt path with his two cohorts. The remaining people head back into the sodajerk saloon now that the show is over.

***

Back at the Chietsonkrit household, Laura is annoyed with her husband as she fixes hopping john for dinner. The two exchange irritated words as she stirs the nearly finished combination of black eyed peas and wild rice, scarcely looking at each other the entire time.

"You want my daughter to try to teach people that barely acknowledge us. She is making a living with that kickboxing you taught her, and they smile and toast when she wins, but you know what they think when they leave my bar," says Laura patiently as she stirs.

Parna replies,"You told me you don't like her having so many bruises, that she won't find a husband with a broken nose or jaw."

Laura almost laughs as she responds to that,"Is that really what this is? Trying to appease me?"

Parna frowns a little as he answers evenly,"What do you want from me? That she likes fighting, so I teach her to fight? That I only know what my father taught me? He would never have allowed me to teach a daughter more than how to defend herself, certainly not to enter a ring."

Laura frowns as she strikes the bottom of the bowl in irritation,"Am I supposed to be proud that you aren't the sexist your father was? You saw how Laughing Crow looks at her, like she's a deviant. How many others here feel the same way? What will they do when this school of hers takes off? You can't tell me their fathers don't know how they feel."

Her martial artist husband slumps a little, knowing that she's right. But what could he do? He eventually states,"I'll deal with their fathers if it comes to that."

Laura turns to face him as she corrects in a firey tone,"When it comes to that. I know what used to happen to girls who wanted to learn to box in Thailand. I'll not see that happen to our daughter for wanting to teach it."

Parna's expression darkens at the insinuation, as does his tone,"Do you think I haven't thought about that? Laughing Crow and his friends are assholes, but they fear me and they respect Standing Bear. If I thought them capable of what you suggest, I would break their backs."

Laura asks him then in an even tone,"Have you ever told her why you left Thailand?"

He goes quiet for a long time at that. She keeps her gaze on him as the dinner begins bubbling and sputtering, he finally replies,"No."

She asks him meaningfully then,"Why did you?"

He knows she isn't going to relent if he refuses to answer. The subject is too important to her, and he understands her fear. He swallows and answers,"A student of mine became a killer. I had to stop him."

She nods at that, pressing further in a quieter tone,"How did he kill, and how did you stop him?"

He exhales, clenching his jaw with understanding of her point,"With what I taught him, I dueled him to the death."

Laura tells him with a tone of finality at this point,"Tell her. Make her understand the life she is moving into. I'm tired of you putting a silver lining on it."

His eyes ignite with impassioned frustration at that point,"A silver lining? Was it a silver lining that kept you from being snatched out of a parking lot? Have you so little regard for the people you live with?"

The smell of burning rice begins to hang in the air, giving her a timely excuse to turn from his gaze. She feels ashamed of herself, and she hides it by stirring the meal and emptying it into a new bowl to try to salvage what she can. A powerful arm gently slips around her waist to hold her close and she's keenly aware that she never heard him leave his seat.

A tear rolls down her cheek as she shudders her explanation,"In the ring, she's safe. I hate seeing what happened today, I think about what could happen if you weren't there..."

Parna just holds her, not saying a word more.

@waezi2@cbishop@heroup2112@impurestcheese@tommythehitman@comicstooge

The ring is a cacophany of cheers and exhultation. The two fighters circle each other, probing with low kicks and jabs, both women of similar height and weight. One is a swarthy skinned dame with red hair, her upright posture and mid guard suggestive of a blend of kickboxing and conventional boxing whereas the other is a dark skinned woman with black hair and square features with a shoulder width stance and higher guard classic of muay thai.

The darker skinned woman probes with a pair of jabs that the other parries casually. She answers with a straight leg kick from the hip that winds up caught, her adversary steps forward, raining punches at the face and general head of the redhead while backing her into a corner. The crowd goes wild as the redhead busts her hindquarters collapsing against the corner where the referee steps in to break it up so she can clamber back to her feet with a cut cheek and brow.

The two head back to their respective corners. While there, the lighter skinned fighter is cleaned up. Her brow and cheek are already swelling so her team does a quick job at stimying this while the darker has the sweat cleaned from her face and is given a squirt of water. Though her style and appearance are Thai, her ringside is mostly Native American. After several moments, the bell rings for them to begin once more.

The two advance to the center of the ring where they greet each other with a trading of punches. The redhead is the superior boxer, but the other is the more balanced fighter and she mixes it up with a kick to the side of her lead knee. They trade like this twice more, the darker girl dancing out of reach after tagging her leg each time. After a third go, the redhead tries to charge with a superman punch to keep her from getting out of reach but the kickboxer skips out of the way and tags her in her exposed abdomen with a straight leg kick from the hip.

Her redheaded adversary seems hurt by the cleanly landed blow to her midriff, so the darkhaired kickboxer moves in for the kill with another kick to her side that she just barely checks, then follows through with a spinning kick that brings her heel across the side of her head and brings the fight to a dramatic close.

The referee steps over to her, first checking on her adversary. An emergency medical team carries her out when she's determined to be nonresponsive but alive and its at that point that the referee lifts the darkhaired fighter's gloved fist in the air to declare,"And the winner by knock out,'Tara Blackwolf Chietsonkrit!'"

Tara is a five foot seven half Cherokee half Thai kick boxer. Her father is a Thai immigrant chiefly responsible for her enthusiasm about the martial arts, and her mother is a medicine woman in the Tennessee reservation. Her family all live on the reservation as quasi celebrities.

She only as yet competes on the amateur circuit, but she's been told she could advance any time she chose. The fighter makes her way out with her family and friends to the beat of Return to Innocense, swigging a bottle of water as she waves to the crowd with a smile belying the shiner she took from her boxing rival.

***

Piney Bluff Reservation, Tennessee

The Piney Bluff Reservation is a humble township more than anything else. This means everyone knows everyone, and if they don't know someone they know someone who does or is related to them. The local soda jerk is the site of the afternoon celebrations after the trip home. Tara's dad, Parna, buys drinks all around.

"Another victory for the Piney Bluff Terror!" Exhults her dad as he delivers a cherry soda toast. Parna Chietsonkrit is a stout little man barely over five feet of raw muscle. He runs the self defense school of the reservation, and even the old men of the tribal council admit to having never seen a more canny fighter with staff or knife. He wore his hair in the fashion of his own warrior ancestors, modified only in the back resulting in a mohawk mullet with the tail by now hanging halfway down his back. He sports a very well groomed handlebar mustache, and noone dared mock him in earshot, the callouses of his knuckles bearing testimony of what could happen.

Tara smiles at the sentiment, the soda jerk coming alive at the toast like a non-alcoholic saloon with half the locals dressed like cowboys joining in. The elder of the community is a wizenned man named Standing Bear. Supposedly he'd been at the Pine Ridge Reservation when the American Indian Movement shot the federal agents back in the sixties and knew the truth of that affair, and that was only the least of the reasons he only rarely spoke English. Standing Bear waves the soda saloon into silence with a smile and clearing of his throat.

'Black Wolf, your victories bring us pride. You show the nations that we of the Tsalagi nation are still strong and still brave. May your victories continue, your fists will be strong so long as your heart stays true.'

Parna just joins in the applause, not yet knowing the Cherokee language to know what was said. Tara did however, she knew not only English and Thai but Cherokee as well. After it passed, he asked about the elder's brief speech and Tara answered,"He wished me more victories and said that I make everyone proud."

Parna nods approvingly of this, his smile widening at the praise. He had raised her in similar fashion to his own upbringing, having been raised to be nak muay, a thai professional fighter. Why he left Thailand he'd never spoken about and few asked but reservation life reminded him of home.

"Where's mom?" Tara asks Parna in Thai.

Parna replies in like fashion,"She's at home fixing dinner, she's making a surprise."

Tara nods quietly with a smile mirroring her dad's.

***

Down by a cold river back in the woods behind the town, Parna and Tara train. Standing Bear has a fold out chair watching them quietly as Parna imparts the old ways of the Nak Muay to his daughter. Everyone knew that in the old days, girls were never trained in such a manner but for him it was more important that they survive even outside of his own homeland.

The two of them start off their morning down in the river splashing water up into their eyes. Parna told her that this teaches not to blink when sweat gets in your eyes, her mother told her this is good for the immune system because most people never give their bodies the chance to fight what lives in the water. Off further in the water is where they do their real working out on a raft tied to the mainland.

Working out on a floating platform is an exercise on many levels. The rocking movements force a deeper concentration on balance and work the muscles to a more intense burn than they would on stable ground. Some days he makes her work by herself out there and plays the coach from the shore, and others he goes out with her. He plays the coach today while holding a horse stance near the native elder, feet slightly more than shoulder width apart and back straight and crouched halfway down.

Out on the water, Tara does pushups in the middle of the raft while it bobs with waves brought about by a stiff breeze. On the mainland, Parna and Standing Bear converse casually. Parna is one of very few that Standing Bear will exercise his English with.

"Your daughter is more formidable than many of our men. I know you've considered teaching here, why do you not?" inquires the elder in a cautious manner.

Parna replies in similar tones,"That is a choice I leave to her. I was once Kru Chietsonkrit, a teacher of defense and martial discipline. You know this, but why I am no longer is why I dare not teach again."

Standing Bear nods solemnly, not pressing to find out why. He opts to skirt instead,"You trust that she will not repeat your mistake. This must have been grave indeed."

Parna nods softly before calling out to Tara to sit in horse stance. He continues to hold his own as he offers more quietly to the elder,"I may share my mistake one day. I am not yet ready."

The elder Standing Bear smiles,"I would very much like to hear your story. I have one of my own that I am not entirely proud of. Is Laura teaching her, or is she committed to fighting?"

The thai fight master's legs are like steel, he can hold that posture indefinitely and he's proving it as he replies,"She is quite committed, but she's learning to heal her bruises with her mother's craft. She enjoys making her own incenses, as well..."

He's cut off by a strange baying from across the river. Even the elder sits up at the sound. It resembled the howl of a wolf, but had a different quality not unlike a scream. It carried on for several long seconds, then happened again even louder.

The elder sternly advises Parna,"Bring her to shore. We want to be heading home early today."

With that, he rises to his own feet and folds up his chair as Parna takes his advice, waving to a very mystified Tara. He takes hold of the rope then begins to pull her to shore, sparing her the trouble of swimming back in. She pulls from her own end, thus doubling the progress.

This is a story I've been pecking away at during my hiatus from Comic Vine. It's something different, and I hope it's sufficiently original despite still being tangentially in my preferred vein of martial arts adventure. The next post in this thread will be the first chapter, this is just my announcement. Please bear with.

@waezi2@heroup2112@cbishop@comicstooge@tommythehitman

@the_red_viper: He's generally an awesome dude, I love his channel :) He also does a lot of stuff with Elder Scrolls and Witcher :D

@cbishop: LoL

@comicstooge: From you, I consider that a high compliment :)

No I haven't, I'll look into that. Thanks for the tip :) The website looks cool.

@laflux: @comicstooge: @mrmonster:Thanks much :)

@spareheadone: I think he does, but it's as ironic as him taking the title First. Surtur was the actual first, being around before the creation epic itself and being so old that he lacks a known origin of his own. The Jotnar and Rokk'r populate far more of the tree than the Aesir or Vanir, so one can only hope that he includes them under the catchphrase 'gods' since they often aren't in common discourse.