These things were in the past now, many long years ago, though the memory remained as solid and present as his heartbeats. Time's passage had made the events seem almost crazed, hyperreal, stretched across a surreal dreamscape that felt more like a scald's embellished saga than the intact past. Perhaps it had not happened like that. Perhaps the Lion had taken his Storm birds to the Tyrant's fortress, and he himself had teleported in. Perhaps it had not been Oval there, but Gun, or someone else. Had Bjorn been there too? It was a long time ago, so doubtful, but Bjorn seemed to always have been there, right from the start, just waiting for his time to come to maturity.
— Chris Wraight
Leman Russ: The Great Wolf
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