Editing Bjorn the Fell Handed (section)

===[[Wulfen]]===
The rhythmic thumping kept heightening until he could no longer ignore it. With great reluctance he finally pulled himself out of the artificial slumber.

His memories may have faded, and much of it outright disappeared, but he remembered. He remembered how it had been the last few times these wolf fuckers had called him back from the restful darkness. Bjorn desperately wished to remember his glory of old; the crusades with Leman Russ; the great enemies he felled. Instead all he could clearly remember was the howling idiots, the wolf talismans and the wolf blades and how they had tacked wolf in front of half the armoury's items. He remembered how loudly he'd laughed when the Iron Priests had told him of the thunderwolves; from the dreadnought's speakers it had sounded like booming thunder. The degenerates interpreted that as a sign of his approval.

But what made Bjorn truly sorrowful is that by now he had gotten used to it. They would wake him up. He'd play along and perform the theatrics. These were what remained of the Space Wolves and he'd just have to accept it. At this point what could these wolf-idiots possibly do that would bother hi-

"NO" crackled out from the speakers. The nearby servitors winced in pain.

Bjorn looked around his throne room. "NO" he said again. "NO NO NO WHAT HAVE YOU FUCKERS DONE". He glanced up and saw the hanging wolf pelts. He glanced right and saw the gigantic wolf statues. He glanced left and saw a wolf marking its territory and two more mating. He glanced down and saw the pathway had been etched with wolf heads and lighted by candles in wolf heads. The throne room was his last bastion of comfort and these blithering animals had renovated its austere space with all of the wolf imagery that they could muster. Bjorn gave the room another quick look around. Where were his battle trophies? Did the fuckers throw away his trophies?

"Hail, mighty Bjorn!" came from next to him. Finally he noticed the Iron Priest that had been standing by his side since he woke up. The motherfucker was wearing so many wolf skulls on his armor that he had difficulty moving his head to look up at the dreadnought. "We have need of you once again!"

The dreadnought remained perfectly still. Inside Bjorn's fleshy remains were banging weakly against the metal frame. The Iron Priest took the silence as a sign of Bjorn's attention. "Our long-lost brothers have returned, scattered across the galaxy."

"WHO" said Bjorn, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Brothers returning? If they were old, perhaps they might be less... tainted. Truer to the roots of the legion.

"The Wulfen, brother Bjorn! The Wulfen have returned to us. See for yourself." With a few clicks on his data-slate, the Iron Priest sent multiple holo-picts to the dreadnought's systems for Bjorn to review.

There was a pause, and then Bjorn took a step forward. And then another, and another. Bjorn kept walking, out of the throne room and then out of The Fang. He kept walking into the raging snowstorm and no one ever saw him again.