Right... that dream. No...that memory.
His figures...he needed to start them.
The figures were blank. Three of them, all canvases for Richard's soul to illustrate. Each a new person, thing, or entity of some sort, craving animation.
Craving a LIFE.
He would give them such. After all, "He" had told him how to.
He'd remake him. That was the only way to make it right.
At least...it was now.
And so, the first was of a wolf. One that stood on two legs, one that spoke volumes, despite a near permanent silence in him.
When his voice would awaken, Angels would faint, beasts would obey, and ALL would hear his words...and the scarf would represent the singular connection to Richard's soul, his love for someone once close...
Your journey begins, young cub...
Varkus...