In Welsh myth, Arawn, king of Annwn, rules not through conquest but through passage.
His hounds, the Cŵn Annwn, do not hunt to kill: they pursue across thresholds.
White with red ears, they are not creatures of ferocity, but of transition. Their baying signals that something is approaching — not necessarily death, but change. Speed, here, is not about possession. It is about crossing.
In this myth, the sighthound is not owned, trained, or commanded. It belongs to movement itself.
The greyhound will come later, on earth, disciplined and contained — but its deepest logic is already here.
The hound does not run the land.
It runs between worlds.
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