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Kynareth watched from the rain, clouds, and skies
A Breton child cloaked in a furry disguise
Nurtured by wolves of the Glenumbra glen
A wolf-boy would scamper through woods, hills, and fen
Cutting his teeth on the flesh of the hunt
He grew brawn and bone, no longer the runt
Night hunts for prey in the light of Secunda
The pack grew more daring to forage and plunder
Fell's Run farmers, their hairs stood on end
Flitting dark shapes, t'was a violent portend
Bringing down cattle with ravenous snarl
A predator child with the wolves in his thrall
Hunters dispatched, with pelts their desire
The wolves they did flee, all safe in the briar
More daring the wolf raids, encroaching the town
So elders did plan to bring the pack down
A goat tied and bleating, intended as bait
Lured wolf-boy and pack to a terrible fate
The pack leapt at prey, intending a meal
But the archers of Fell's Run soon brought them to heel
Arrows flew fast as the boy dropped his cowl
Bloodied and pierced, he fell with a howl
Wergital Wolf-Boy was burned on the moor
Return unto Kynareth—your soul is now pure