Lemannin Rousse, the Wolf Queen

Amidst the clamor of war, on the bridge of the Space Wolves' Strike Cruiser Hafnir, orbiting the besieged Imperial world of Argellis.

Lemannin Rousse paces the bridge, her hand gripping the hilt of her frost axe, Helwinter.

Rousse scoffing : Wait? While our siblings bleed on the ground? While the Greenskins desecrate the Allfather's world with their foul stench?

Gwenhyr Gunnhilt: Patience, my queen. The Allfather's strategos have a plan. Reinforcements are on route from the Ultramarines. We must hold the line and...

Rousse slams her axe down on the deck, making the bridge tremble : Plans made by ink-stained cowards in their ivory towers! They are blind to the truth of battle! There will be no world to reclaim if we stand idle while our siblings die!

Rousse roaring with laughter : The Allfather forged me for war, not for waiting! He understands the wolf's heart! He knows that a true warrior does not cower behind walls of words while their pack is slaughtered!

Gwenhyr Gunnhilt growls, her hand gripping the hilt of her power sword : This is madness, my queen. You risk the entire campaign with this reckless-

Rousse grabs Gunnhilt by the shoulder, her grip like iron : Reckless? You call this reckless? To stand aside as the tide of green filth consumes all before it - that is the true cowardice! The old ways are done, Gunnhilt. We are the Emperor’s wolves, not his lapdogs.