Karaskir.

Feimrir Karaskir was tired, very tired. He'd been fighting all his life, first with his own tribe to gain his position of chief, then against the enemies that wished to harm his people through nefarious means. Eventually he'd had enough of those acting against him and now seeks retribution against those that'd wronged him time, and time again. He sits in a large tent-like hut on what could almost be described as a throne made from various wolf pelts. Atop it are three large skulls belonging to his previous companions that'd died either from battle or old age.

Currently he's staring down at a Tomnal Tribesman that had been captured while scouting in their territory. He was missing a few fingers due to his encounter with the Karaskir wolves but no one attempted to tend to the wound. The thin man stares up at Feimrir in fear, the older man's white hair, missing eye, thick beard and the numerous scars covering his face painting a scary picture. This is especially so for someone who'd been observing their culture and traditions... Even those in far out clans knew the name of Feimrir, tales of his brutal and staunch defence of the Karaskir lands had spread far and wide. Here he was praised as a hero, but elsewhere the tales were told to give nightmares to misbehaving children.

Feimrir smirks down at him, revealing a few missing teeth with those remaining being stained black and yellow. "Well? What does the Tomnal want with the Karaskir?" asks, his men had already done a brief interrogation of him but Feimrir just enjoyed the stench of the man's fear.

"N-n-nothing! I was sent to, to.. Offer trade!" he stutters out.

Feimrir glances at the person who'd brought him in, "Did he happen to carry any wares on him?" he asks as the Tomnal prisoner goes pale.

"Nothing. Nothing but sticks drenched in bear urine, bow with arrows, food and the clothes on his back." they say with a shake of their head.

Feimrir grabs the Tomnal's thick black hair and pulls it so he can look the man in the face, "You lie. Let me show you what happens to liars in the Karaskir." he says as he stands and begins dragging the man out of the hut.

Outside was a village covering a huge area, there wasn't an extremely large amount of people belonging to this tribe, instead they built their huts quite far apart from each other. For what reason? Only the founders knew, Feimrir kept the tradition going as it allowed the Wolves to independently interact with their respective partners without being harassed by the others. Wolves were notoriously pack predators and seek to dominate those in it to reach a higher position in the hierarchy. As Feimrir had spent his entire life around these animals he had gained an understanding over some of their actions, and ways to control them. You see, the Wolve's inside of the Karaskir thought of the Tribesman as members of the pack. All you needed to do to maintain control over the majority was to control the Alpha, the wolf currently partnered with Feimrir known as Fenrir.

A few Tribesman watch with rapt curiosity as he dragged the panicking man through the village, they all knew where he was heading and most attempted to get as far as possible... The man's screams would be terrible for only a few minutes.

The Tomnal tribesman looks at the large structure in-front of him with terror, it was made of wood with a few small entrances designed for Wolves. He knew from observing the Tribe that they called it the "Kennel", he didn't know if the word referred to it's inhabitants or the way it is usually used...

Feimrir dragged the man up a wooden incline, eventually reaching a small hole that has it's borders stained red. "Do you know why the Tomnal know nothing about us?" he asks the man. He shakes his head quickly, hoping that if he proved entertaining he wouldn't be subjected to "That".

The old man pushes the man's head through the hole, allowing him to see the bottom, it was a dirt floor absolutely covered in clumps of clotted blood and bones. Some look to have been torn open to reach to valuable marrow inside. He panics and begins to beg, "Oh, god's please no. Do not do this! I have family, a wife and children. I was forced to do this, please for their sake!" he pleads as he struggles to release himself from the larger man's grip.

"Oh, I know of the Tomnal tribes actions against us, once I conquer the surrounding territory there won't be anything they can do to stop us... I must thank them though, sending such a large meal for my Tribe." he says before whistling which immediately has the floor of the Kennel flooded with hungry Wolves.

The Tomnal Tribesman continues to struggle, however he never noticed that the only thing holding him up was Feimrir. The older man let's go, allowing his prisoner to drop into the Kennel to be devoured by the Wolves.

The impact of the man hitting the ground is as usual, followed by his screams of agony. Feimrir sits back and watches through the hole as the wolves tear the man apart, they are not trying to kill him and instead only wish to eat which prolongs to process. Skin is torn from muscle, muscle is torn from born, organs are eaten bit by bit and eventually bones are pulled from their rightful positions... All while the man is conscious. Feimrir didn't kill the man as he found the Wolves liked the struggle, he also found that killing the prey before dropping it to them made them placid and lazy, not fit for the Karaskir at all.

The Kennel was a building conceived by Feimrir himself, he had noticed that the Wolve's would occasionally attack those feeding them. The Tribesman weren't allowed to attack the Wolves in any way which led to the animals thinking that they had jumped the Hierarchy, Feimrir butchered those that thought that was in-front of the rest to make his position clear. And so the Kennel was constructed, it was designed to drop food to the wolves safely. However after a Tribesman fell in and got eaten alive Feimrir discovered that it worked better for... Negotiation purposes.

After around five minutes the screams had stopped and the Tribesman who had left to escape the sounds eventually returned to go about their business. Feimrir headed back to his hut where he awaited news about the progress of starving the Sua'jiki. He knew he was the first in known history to attempt a tactic like this, he didn't know if it'd work or not but felt with enough force it'd let them take the Territory without an outright assault.

Fighting the Sua'jiki in their own territory would be risky as while they were honourable, he didn't think that Sarr'vuln would allow them to envelop the land without a fight. He learned of the spike traps they'd lain to the north of their village but laughed when he found that they were neither large enough to kill, nor deep enough to capture. Their honourable ways would see them destroyed, if not from the Karaskir then from someone else. Afterall, honour only belongs to the victors. The rest will be lost to the lands, buried by sand and forgotten by history.