Steppe tribes revere good hunters. I've hunted their most revered animal, the wolf. I'm at least better than any nomad boy who just grew hair on their chest. I carried the wolf pelts near the fire, and after I did that, something terrifying came to my attention. They all had complete dao marks.
I felt my blood run cold. I just killed three things with complete dao marks. I reached for my satchel and brought out a spirit stone. After I spent it and acquired Qi, I divined about the dao marks.
A booming voice reverberated from inside me. A maddening feeling of smallness came over me. Within a moment, I sweated my clothes into a soaking wet state. An image of yellow wolf eyes seared itself into my mind. Those dreadful eyes looked down on my tiny self. I was nothing; it was everything.
"Eat my kin, diviner. You deserve it. You'll eat many, many more. If and when my kin manages to kill you, they will be the ones who deserve to eat you instead."
