On an otherwise unassuming day, in a moment that the champion of mortal kind within the materium would curse till the end of their war, the dark gods took perhaps their cheapest shot to date against the materium anathema, the Revelation of mankind, she who would become humanity's Empress.
Twenty post human champions of mankind did she create, her primarchs, they who would be her greatest generals, living weapons against the scourge of chaos. All scattered amongst the stars, to places strange far and exotic. Some like Isis were lucky, they got sent to civilised worlds close to Terra. Others however, not so much.
Now listen well to the tale of Fenris, of the wolf queen, and her epic saga of legend!
On the snowy tundra of Fenris, there was once a great pack of Fenrisian wolves. Not the greatest, nor strongest nor swiftest, not especially clever nor cunning, yet they lacked not in any aspect. They were not wolves like more humans in the imperium would recognise from tales of old. They were broad, strong, mighty, and ravinessly horny. Though they could adopt a quadrupedal stance, the wolves of Fenris were naturally bipeds. Humanoid, though their features were unmistakably those of dire wolf's, they resembled humans impeccably in stricture. Two arms, two legs, standing tall and proud baring powerful rippling muscles to the world. They rivaled the astartes in many ways, and if not for the fur and their savage nature would no doubt have been lauded far and wide as truly beautiful creatures.
For though they were wolfish, for though their bodies were that of a wolf, there were never any wolves on Fenris, only the tragic results of stranded colonists all too desperate to survive the age of trife, willing to go to any length to see themselves saved from the cold harshness of their homeworld.
It was not too far from the great pack near the lands of the Russ that the incubation pod of the fifth primarch fell.
...
A smoking ruin, a wandering child, for years the nameless infant roamed the wild, surviving off the barren land to the best of her abilities. Mindless, driven only by instinct, it was fate that she would be discovered by much the same, a great alpha bitch of the Fenrisian wolf population, a being who too was without name.
Hunting for food, scavenging the tundra, the imposing humanoid form of the fenrisian native locked eyes with the child. Perhaps she could smell something about the primarch, feel some other wordy quality to it that alerted her to the younglings special qualities. She gazed deep into the primarch's eyes and the primarch did much the same.
She'd seen enough. This was not prey, this was something dangerous, something no wolf should be burdened with challenging. Disregarding the potential meal, the majestic large grey fenrisian wolf turned to strid back to her cave, rejoin her pack, and be off to search for more promising food.
However, those plans were not to be. For the child followed the grey she wolf alpha back to her cave.
At first the fenrisian she-wolf payed no heed, she thought something like 'if I ignore this human seeming thing, it will wander off when it loses interest', yet it never did. It sat outside her cave, and brought fresh kill as gifts after observing members of the fenrisian wolf pack do much the same in an act of reverence towards their leader. She was amused by this, and further captivated when her own children, a black wolf cub and white wolf cub, started playing with the odd thing. They'd stay out late at night, sounds of joyful howls filling the cold fenrisian air.
She was taken in by the charm of the thing, and thought 'it is not human after all'. So it was that she decided to keep it for her own, for it was a precious child that needed wholesome protection. She picked it up one day, the female still play fighting with her two black and white cubs, and brough the thing up to her bosom to nurse. It took her milk eagerly, and as she felt the life giving liquid drain out of her breast knew that this would be a fine addition to her pack.
