Meatballs and Morality

There was naught if not snow that passed through his mind. In his lungs, in his eyesight. Everything was a massive blanket that covered these lands usually, but even such storms would come to an end eventually. In his very precise predicament, all he could possibly complain about was the need to hunt, but thankfully he was not so much hindered as he could have been, with his body that could withstand the bite of the cold, there was naught but the truth of it all; he longed for warmth. The caves were not so... much better than just standing outside in the cold, his essence could not however simply relocate. Despite his lengthy travels, these lands were his birthplace.

"Hm."

He looked around shortly. The Earthlings on this world had plenty of technological advancement, perhaps he could go and seek for something that could give him that effect. Shawa would climb the very top of the peaks, only to see something disturbing on the horizon. A pitch, dark smoke that carried all sorts of particles along with it.

"What... is that?"

He murmured to himself, just quietly at least enough for his eyes to widen and his sockets to eventually narrow to the point where he could pick up something wrong. It was sensibly warmer in that direction, but it also felt like the air was no longer fresh, intoxicating even. Whenever he reached closer, he could spot metal structures similar to other things he had seen around Earth during his travels. It was something the humans used to build machines and the like, and yet he could not see much past massive globes that appeared to be otherwise harmless and yet, he had a bad feeling about this.

They were transporting the finished product across the fabric and down some warehouses, and yet it appeared as if the very stench of death was surrounding that place.

Yet Shawa remained still, unsure and confused. What should he do? Take Fenrir and move as his ancestors once did, or should he wipe them out?

Thread Power Level: 24,000

WC: 344