“Stay to the shadows, and far away from the witches. For they are no friends of ours, and the towns are no place for a Hound.”
That is the warning of the pack elders, the wounds of the past still fresh in their minds. But their words do little to deter Aedh, who has not known the same pain they have. Bold and adventurous, his fire burns brightly in the night, yet he would much rather feel the sun on his fur, and be free to roam the Isles as he pleases. More than that, however, he wishes to get a better look at the witches they chase away, for surely they aren’t as dangerous as he’s been told?
In case you missed it last time, long story short, Missveryvery's drawing arm is super broken! Until her arm's whole and unbroken, we're going to have some lovely MAOH art from some awesome artists we commissioned to help out!
This time we have an INSANELY beautiful image by the too powerful artist Jay! She really went all out in making an amazing illustration of the vampire Lord Aedh! Missveryvery and I have been screaming for days about it!!! Check out her other art below!!!
Artist:
Jay
Sites:
https://singingwhileromeburns.tumblr.com
https://twitter.com/weirdasspoison
Stay tuned for more awesome guest art, and as soon as Missveryvery’s arm can take it, we’ll be back to comicing!
And we have a shiny, exclusive-content filled PATREON as well as merch in the SHOP!
“Wrath of the Beast” Excerpt — Part of the Wildborn Arc
Having reestablished his bond with Anam, Tristan is eager to learn the extent of their abilities as Wildborn, but without his predecessors to guide him, the path to knowledge will be difficult, and the Alpha of the Hellhounds can only help so much. Undeterred, the witchling recalls Luz’ trip to the Knee and the discoveries she made, and so he embarks on an excursion of his own with Aedh close behind.
Things get complicated, however, as Boscha and her circle are there when they arrive, for reasons unknown. Tristan is adamant of staying out of sight and out of their way, but Aedh is intent on paying the Grudgby captain back in full for the torment of his “little brother”.
===
"If I'd been in your place," Aedh growled, "I'd have bitten her hand, too."
"You know, I'm still not sure how to feel about that," Tristan mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his spot. "Not that it matters much, I suppose—she's still a jerk, even if she has been leaving me alone more often. Anam thinks she got off lucky."
"Is that right?" Glancing back toward the pink-haired witch, the Hound's eyes narrowed, yet there was something different in his expression—a mischievous glint that wasn't there before. "Well, how about we—"
"Don't!" Tristan's panicked cut-in came out louder than he intended, and he tensed when the witchlings looked up in confusion. Thinking quickly, he seized Aedh in his jaws, yanking him down by the scruff of his neck before they could be spotted.
Boscha's voice came carrying over a few beats later, harsh and belittling. "Is someone there?"
No, there isn't! Tristan thought desperately, ignoring Aedh's squirming. Nobody here! No one at all!
"I don't see anyone," another voice answered—Skara, perhaps? "Maybe it was just the wind?"
"Sounded more like a growl to me," came a third voice, masculine in tone, but Tristan couldn't recall them from anywhere. "Wait...is the Slitherbeast here?!"
"Ugh, no, it's not the Slitherbeast, idiot," Boscha groaned. "It's sleeping, remember? Besides, do you really think it could sneak up on us?"
"Oh...right. Sorry, Boscha."
"Whatever. It was probably just some dumb animal, nothing worth our attention." (Tristan had to clamp his paw over Aedh's muzzle to keep him from voicing his outrage at that.) "Let's just get this over with, then we can go home." There was a quiet murmur of assent to this, followed by the crunching of footsteps in the snow as the group walked off.
Tristan waited until the sounds had fully faded away, before releasing his grip on Aedh, who immediately poked his head above the rock in a huff. "Dumb animal?" He bared his teeth in the direction of the tracks. "How about she gets off that high hell throne of hers so she can say that to my face? Then they'll see—"
"Then they'll see you!" Tristan broke in sternly, flicking the Hound with his tail. "And they'll go running to demon hunters...or worse, the Emperor's Guard! What happens then?"
"Guard, Schmard," Aedh said dismissively. "What are they gonna do, throw me in a cage? Nobody can catch me."
Tristan frowned, exasperated—somehow or other, they always came back to this same discussion. "That may be true, but in case you forgot, I'm still new to this Hellhound thing, so I can be caught. And if people find out that I'm Wildborn..."
His words trailed off, but the silence spoke volumes. Aedh finally seemed to deflate at that, and he sank back onto his haunches, subdued.
Sighing, Tristan attempted to clear the air. "Like I said, Boscha's still a jerk," he began. "That hasn't changed a bit, but she's just not worth the trouble. I appreciate you looking out for me—" he bumped the Hound's shoulder affectionately "—I really do. But you can do that without putting ourselves in danger."
Aedh didn't respond immediately, but his ears no longer were pinned back behind his head, so the witchling took that as encouragement. Eventually, the Hound let out a breath, turning toward his companion. "You're right, it's not worth our necks. I'm sorry."
Tristan finally smiled, relieved. "Thank you for understanding."
"Hey, don't worry about it. Besides—” the Hound grinned in a way that made the witchling’s heart sink “—I got a much better idea."
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