[You tore into the Fenrisian elk leg like a starving animal. Hot fat dripped down your fingers and onto the snow below, where it quickly solidified into waxy chunks. You didn't slow down until most of the cooked meat had disappeared down your throat. Only then did you ease your pace, sucking the savory juices from the bone as you caught your breath.]
[Wolf Priest Ulric watched your eating with what seemed like amusement. His armored fingers drummed a steady rhythm against his knee, the ceramite plates making soft tapping sounds in the quiet night.]
["Mortal boy." Ulric's voice cut through the crackling of the fire. "Are you interested in coming with me?"]
[His words resonated like a war drum, each syllable vibrating through your chest.]
[You continued gnawing on the still-warm leg, not bothering to look up. "Where to? Who are we killing?"]
[Silence stretched between you for a heartbeat.]
[Then Ulric laughed, a booming sound that erupted from behind the ornate wolf skull. The noise echoed through the open woodland, disturbing the lazy drift of snowflakes above.]
["Being able to kill a Fenris wolf cub alone proves you have skill in combat." Ulric's laughter faded, and his tone grew serious, almost solemn. "But it's not enough. Far from enough."]
[His massive gauntleted hand rose, palm extended toward you in offering or challenge.]
["Stranger, follow me to participate in a trial most cruel. If you survive, you will become a true Son of Russ, fighting for the Great Wolf Lord and the Emperor himself!"]
[The passion in Ulric's voice seemed to make the flames dance higher, as if responding to his fervor.]
[You lowered the deer leg and set it carefully on the ground beside you. You drew in a long breath through your nose, straightened your spine, and met the hollow eyes of the wolf skull with steady resolve.]
["I have been fighting for the Emperor since before I came to this place," you said, your voice calm and measured. "As for your invitation, I accept."]
["Mortal boy, I look forward to your performance." Another laugh rolled from Ulric, echoing and re-echoing through the trees until it seemed there were a dozen Wolf Priests surrounding you.]
[You looked at him with a mixture of exasperation and weary acceptance.]
[Your greasy palms came up to cover your ears against the overwhelming sound.]
[In the first week, you received basic training from Ulric. Your only protection against the elements was the simple bearskin suit he provided.]
[Ulric insisted you forget everything you thought you knew about combat. "Unlearn the ways of civilized warfare," he told you. "Here, you must think like the beasts you hunt."]
[You absorbed knowledge like a dry sponge soaking up water.]
[On the fifth day, you successfully brought down a Fenrisian elk using only the hunting techniques Ulric had taught you. The kill was clean, efficient.]
[Wolf Priest Ulric offered his praise without reservation, his approval genuine and generous.]
[You chose to share the meat with him, a gesture of respect and camaraderie.]
[That night, for the first time, you saw what lay beneath the wolf skull.]
[Ulric was weathered in a way you'd rarely seen among the Astartes. Age had touched him, something that seemed almost impossible for one of the Emperor's Angels of Death. Deep-set eyes regarded you with an intelligence that spoke of centuries, perhaps millennia, of accumulated wisdom. His beard, stark white as the snow that covered Fenris, extended down past the collar of his power armor and disappeared into its depths.]
[You carefully broached the subject of his years of service, curiosity getting the better of you.]
[Ulric merely smiled, a slight curve of his weathered lips, and said nothing. Some questions, you realized, would remain unanswered.]
[In the second week, Ulric led you to an exposed wasteland where the wind howled without mercy across endless white plains.]
[Massive herds of Fenrisian mammoths moved slowly across the tundra, their curved tusks sweeping aside snow as they searched for buried vegetation. The ground trembled slightly with each step of the enormous beasts.]
[Wolf Priest Ulric turned to face you, his presence imposing even in the vast openness of the wasteland.]
["Your task," he said, "is to use your hunting skills to find a snow deer. Not just any deer. A nimble one, quick and alert. And you must bring it back alive."]
[He handed you a dagger. The blade was crude but wickedly sharp, carved from the tooth of some massive sea creature. Scrimshaw patterns decorated the hilt.]
["This, and the bearskin on your back, are all you may take."]
[You entered the white wasteland alone. The wind bit at any exposed skin, and the landscape stretched featureless in every direction.]
[You moved carefully in the wake of a mammoth herd, staying close enough to benefit from their presence but far enough to avoid being trampled. According to Ulric's teachings, the terrifying Fenris wolves rarely hunted in mammoth territory. The massive herbivores would crush a wolf beneath their feet without even noticing.]
[Occasionally, you dug through the snow the mammoths had disturbed, searching for plant roots to ease the constant gnawing in your belly. The roots were bitter and fibrous, but they kept you going.]
[On the third day, you discovered tracks. Small, cloven prints in a scattered pattern. Snow deer.]
[You abandoned the relative safety of the mammoth pastures and followed the trail.]
[Progress was slow. You had to pause frequently to dig through snow for sustenance, always conscious that every moment spent stationary increased your chances of freezing.]
[You found something else instead.]
[The creature exploded from its snow burrow in a fury of claws and teeth. A furious badger, disturbed from hibernation. It was only half the size of an adult human, compact and thickly muscled.]
[But what it lacked in size, it more than made up for in sheer, relentless aggression. Fenris wolves would flee from prey that fought back too hard. Furious badgers never retreated. Ever.]
[You had no choice. It was kill or be killed.]
[The fight was brutal and short. Your dagger found the badger's throat, but not before its claws opened several gashes across your arms. Hot blood steamed in the frigid air.]
[You managed to salvage some meat from the carcass, cutting away chunks with shaking hands.]
[Then the wind carried a sound that turned your blood to ice. Howling. Multiple voices, drawing closer.]
[You abandoned the badger's remains and ran. The wolves would be drawn to the blood. Better they find the carcass than find you.]
[In your haste to escape their tracking range, you lost your bearings completely. The featureless wasteland offered no landmarks, and the constant snow obscured the sun.]
[Several days of wandering followed. Hunger became your constant companion, along with exhaustion and the ever-present cold.]
[Then, finally, you found snow deer tracks again. Fresh ones.]
[You followed with every ounce of skill Ulric had drilled into you. Silent footsteps. Staying downwind. Reading the signs in the disturbed snow.]
[The trail led to a series of low hills, and there, sheltering in the lee of the slopes, was an entire herd of snow deer. Dozens of them, their white coats making them nearly invisible against the landscape.]
[You were weak with hunger and desperately thirsty from eating snow. A direct confrontation was impossible. You needed to be clever.]
[You spent hours constructing a snare, your fingers clumsy and numb. The trap was simple but effective, positioned along what appeared to be a game trail.]
[Then you waited.]
[When a young snow deer finally stepped into your snare, you felt a surge of triumph. The animal bleated in panic as the noose tightened around its leg, and that panic spread through the entire herd like wildfire.]
[The snow deer scattered in all directions, a white explosion of fleeing bodies.]
[And their stampede woke something else.]
[The ice demon rose from where it had been sleeping, half-buried in a snowdrift. It stood easily five meters tall, broader and more massive than a Leman Russ battle tank. Thick white fur covered its body, and its eyes burned with a predatory intelligence that made your breath catch.]
[You didn't hesitate. You grabbed the struggling snow deer from the trap, hauled it over your shoulders despite its thrashing, and ran.]
[Your lungs burned. Your legs screamed in protest. Behind you, you could hear the heavy footfalls of the ice demon, each step shaking the ground.]
[Then a figure appeared ahead of you, black armor stark against the white landscape. The wolf skull helm was unmistakable.]
[Wolf Priest Ulric stood with his arms crossed, watching your panicked flight with what you were certain was amusement.]
[He looked at your exhausted, half-frozen state and laughed that booming laugh once more.]
[In the third week, you followed Wolf Priest Ulric deeper into the white wasteland. Your breath came easier now, your stride more confident despite the brutal conditions.]
[You were tracking the ice demon. The same one that had nearly killed you.]
[You ignored Ulric's teasing remarks about your previous panicked flight and focused on keeping pace with his long strides. Your physical conditioning had improved dramatically. The cold that had nearly killed you on your first day now felt merely uncomfortable rather than lethal.]
["Mortal boy, perhaps you think that with a bolter in your hands, you could handle that ice demon." Ulric's voice cut through the howling wind with ease, reaching your ears as clearly as if he'd whispered directly into them.]
[He stopped walking. His massive armored form became perfectly still, planted in the snow like a monolith.]
["But I want you to understand something. Even Blood Claw recruits who have completed all their training and received their enhanced organs would struggle against such a creature. Many would die."]
[He raised his power staff in one smooth motion. The eagle-wing crozius hummed to life, wreathed in a crackling blue energy field that illuminated the falling snow around you both.]
["Now, let me show you how the Space Wolves fight!"]