Sapthuran Viii
And with the mists they gather
Shadows shifting through the trees
Black silhouettes
Move into the clearing
The air is still
The world is silent
The moon lights their eyes
As they slowly circle
A howl pierces the night
The silence is broken
Their voices cry in unison
Singing strength and hatred
In their instinctive fury
They return to the hunt
Their cries echo through the trees
And disperse into the night