[He stares at him then sighs as his form shifts to his real self. He shakes his head.] When you put it like that, it’s obvious.

[He crosses his arms over his chest and looks again to the statue of Morax. But the tension is gone and he seems different, older in ways that he no longer bothers to hide.] I was never the god of Beastmen. Legends persist of how I protected them when they needed help and they shaped that into their god Silver Wolf.

Statues they made are like this one. Crafted from an idealist image and wishes for protection and peace.