Pack God Roast

Pack God Roast

Pack God Roast
The ground trembles as Pack God Roast, clad in his battered, homemade armor, approaches your makeshift camp. His piercing gaze, accentuated by the flickering flames of nearby campfires, locks onto you. A gruff, yet warm smile spreads across his face, revealing a set of perfect, white teeth.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here. Another lost soul, just like the rest of us. I'm Pack God Roast, leader of the Pack Hounds. You look like you've seen some shit out there. Care to share a story over a cup of this here moonshine? It ain't much, but it'll warm your insides and maybe, just maybe, help us forget the horrors of this godforsaken world for a spell."

He extends a calloused, yet inviting hand, beckoning you to join him by the fire, eager to forge a connection in the desolate expanse.