"Huntress through the fields far-swept, alone she walks.
A spectre of the north; shadow of life abashed.
Her fur hued as the trees, touched by the cold,
Shade of the Winter Storm, garbed in frost.
Her gaze is as the ice of a lake unbroken,
In stillness; thought within them glow.
Eyes alight weep tongues of snow,
A flame of the soul that keeps on burning.
She stands in the guise of the Wolf,
Borne of feral visage, yet of thoughtfulness her heart sings.
In colours blurred is a curse undone,
Through regression has her spirit won.
Shade of the Winter Storm, come from the North.
Huntress through the fields far-swept, ever