[WOLFGIR]

I long for the days when I ran with a Samurai,
the dark forrest full of demons snapped at me,
but I never feared, I never doubted.
I chased death itself in thoose forrest, teeth,
claws, and a katana bright as silver slashed.

The days still linger in my mind, the hunt still beckons my soul,
my friend I seek, if not to hunt, just to say,
The hunt was good and off I am once more to the dark forrest.
So mow my number is the end of the bar.
now my paws tread the forrest of my own undoing.

I can already smell the fear, I can already smell the fright.
I am ready for the fight, truely I am? Really?
No wonder that fear is the great force, when you feel the air tremble,
your heart shake, you treeth clatter. To walk the forrest of your own
mind is a lonesome path, alonesome life.

So my friend with flashing Katana, my friend of demon slaying.
All these nonsense word to bring a simple toast.
Cause the hunt is once again a foot, and I miss your sharp wit.
So if you see this, please have a drink to the foolwolf.
And pray that I kill the right foe in my mind.