I awake from noon rest to a sightless abomination looming over the camp. Unfathomable in its physiology, it blots out the sun, and for an instant, I am reminded of chief Taheiman's tales of unspeakable eldritch horrors that stalk the orbs in the night sky. Yet that was of my own imagination, and so of my own comprehension. This entity is something Other.
Shrieks of terror erupt all around, a cacophany of ignorance, or confusion, or love of life, or llack of understanding. It, like Father Odin-Ra, our Sol, is squelched too, as this Being roars. But it is not a voice -- it is the world itself, trembling under the wrath of the Thing Unknowable. It rises. For a precious few seconds, the clouds hide our doom.
'It falls!', I cry, but the air will not carry my voice. It, like the Storm Lord Tho'or, our Father, Odin-Ra, even the First, Atum, the One, is powerless to seize its movement. At the last, as it will land on our thousands, I see a Houndman in our midst. He bids it closer... Welcomes it.
I will avenge myself on the day of Ragnarok.