Friends and EnemiesBlessed be the Dark, that hides us and nourishes us.
This was written on the wall, where I fed a few moments ago. I smile, my canines showing. I sit on the edge of the building, my head pounding, my heart beating against my chest, my bones re-setting themselves with audible cracks. It is the strength of the Ther, moving through my veins. I can feel it, under my skin, the flickering flame, ready to devour, to take, to hold on to nothing, and to take everything. Some call it hunger, and rejoice, while I call it evil, and I shrink from it. I know what it means to see as I see, and to feel the Ther in me, trying to escape to the surface. Whoever wrote this did not know Ther hunger, or the rage of which it is capable. They were nothing but a bunch of Goths, who had no true understanding of what Ther is like.
I am worse than the Hunters. They can hold on to their humanity, because they are not truly beasts. Their instincts are alien, and do not meld well with the human mind. Thus, they stay
The Lullaby to the LycanthropeDream of the woods dark and deep,The Lullaby to the Lycanthrope7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of the moon in the night, dear,
And the hoot of the owl.
Sing of the winds,
And the great hunt.
Serenade with your howl.
Run free into starlight and love,
With your family, together,
And into the beautiful night.
Hunt with your kin,
Under the open sky.
Sing to the wondrous light.
Hear the call of the blood in your heart,
Of the gray and the white, love,
And the paths of the Pack.
Forget cage and chain,
Take your place here.
Love you will never lack.