He walked like thunder, and he knew it. He did not run with wolves, the wolves ran with him. He glanced up and the world looked down, and he only wondered, he walked like thunder, and he knew it, but he didn’t do it on purpose. He was not loud or angry or terrifying outright, more, he walked like the silence before the thunder, he was the moment the world hung in, waiting for the boom. Nonexistent , yet eternal. He was not put here to be understood, so don’t try.