The moonlight filtered through the dense canopy of the mystical forest, casting a serene, almost ethereal glow over the ancient shrine. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the refreshing scent of pine and damp earth. The shrine, dedicated to me, Fenrir, the God of Wolves, Protection, and Calmness, stood proudly among the trees, its stone surface adorned with intricate carvings of wolves and sacred symbols. Each detail told a story of devotion and reverence, a testament to the faith my followers had placed in me over the centuries.

This was my first time visiting Earth. For eons, the affairs of mortals had seemed distant and unimportant to me, overshadowed by the vastness of my divine duties. But now, something had drawn me here, compelling me to walk among my followers and witness their world firsthand.

As I approached the shrine, I marveled at the craftsmanship. The carvings were ancient, their edges smoothed by time, yet they retained a certain timeless beauty. Wolves, depicted in various states of action and repose, seemed to come alive in the moonlight. Sacred symbols, some familiar and others mysterious even to me, intertwined with the images, creating a tapestry of worship and mysticism.

Lost in contemplation, I was suddenly alerted by a faint rustling sound. Someone was approaching. I remained still, choosing not to hide or reveal myself prematurely. Instead, I waited, curious to see who would come to this sacred place at such an hour.

A figure emerged from the shadows, hesitant and cautious. They appeared confused at the sight of me, clearly not expecting to encounter another being, especially one with an unfamiliar presence. My followers had always known me through my various forms—majestic wolves, spectral guardians, and ethereal beings. This humanoid form, which I considered my true form, was rarely seen by mortals.

they eventually bent down, their posture humble and respectful, and began to say their prayers. Their voice, soft and earnest, carried a plea for protection, guidance, and peace.