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Hungry Ghoul
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Bjoernhethnar
All conscious thinking left him as the familiar rage of his house fell on Valdavar. His senses sharpened to unnatural efficiency, and every muscle within his body grew to superhuman power.
As he sprang up to lash out with one of his hands against the enemy, Valdavar could still perceive, even through the red curtain of his battle frenzy, a thing bringing a thought to his mind that was so surprising to him that to a watcher it would have seemed as if the Beorning's lightning-fast movement halted for the glimpse of a moment.
In the hand which he raised against the evil creature in front of him Valdavar held no weapon, and still he knew subconsciously that he could slash his enemies with his hand, for it was not his hand, but the paw of a beast, and his arm was clad with fur, and such was his body. His ancestors had lent him their powers in this hour of need!
What human sense had still remained in him at that time, it had to wait until later to ponder over this curiosity...
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