Howlers Amoruka

The longship cut through the restless waters, its carved prow slicing the waves like a blade. Under a sky of endless grey, where the winds carried whispers of fate, a Viking couple stood side by side, their hands steady on the railing, their hearts bound by the same reckless hope. She was wrapped in furs, her golden hair braided with bone and silver, eyes fixed on the western horizon where myth promised land beyond the sea. He stood beside her, his grip firm on the hilt of his sword, knowing that the journey ahead held both promise and peril. Their world had been left behind—the Aords, the halls of their ancestors, the battles carved into memory—but in the rhythm of the waves and the salted air, a new beginning beckoned. Amoruka.