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The Hunt

Come now, wolf cub, from your slumber.
Learn the hunting ways of few.
Sink your fangs in foeman’s haunches
For the hunt begins anew.

See the moon glint over snow plains.
Hear the crisp air call your name.
Smell the scent of fleeing quarry,
As you play the stalker’s game.

Scent the path with swift aggression
Hungry thunder fills the air.
Onward wolfling, learn the old ways.
Let your silver teeth flash bare.

In the darkness, swift the wild cries
We of north wind, snow and star.
We the warriors, always wildest,
Loping to the lands of far.

Follow now the running water.
Bath in icy river’s rest,
As you hound with feral cunning
All your foemen to their death.

Quick laid footfalls in the flurry
Lead you now to hiding prey.
Howl your victory, fast the calling,
As the savage wolves array.

Circle now with soundless stalking.
Summon brothers with your call.
Harry hunted to the slaughter,
Shed the blood to share with all.

Scarlet flowing on the snow bank:
Silver beauty, crimson pain.
Grasping always for the glory.
Let the hunt begin again.