The glisten of the silver moon; the passion of the hunt; the flight of our fear-stricken quarry; the high grass brushing against our ankles, the trees frame the sky, the sight of the stars from where we stand on firm ground. This world is ours, we have made it our own. We paid for it with blood and strife and death, but the price was worthwhile. No mistake, no false hope lured us to our fate here, but the want of the blood in our veins and the wild song in our souls, the love of our wolfen brothers and sisters, the howls in the night. The life of the flesh; the mind of the beast. Our choice was not easy, we struggle with it nightly. But we have made our choice - and here we shall remain.