We were forced to fight them all. But even with all their legions; our lines were never broken nor breached. Our minds branded with the carnage; seared now forever upon our souls; dark memories that are kept. We are the mad henchman for the God of light, but that doesn't prevent one talking to themselves in remembrance of atrocious plights. War by attrition; It bleeds and bleeds. One day we will bleed all it needs, until it bleeds no more, and we are finally set free.... May the Moon's Shine always be my paradise, so that I may find within it all Werewolves that I love.
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