At Dusk We Run by cloister
From the deep forests of the pagan North, down across the slopes of civilization. As the night draws near our hearts begin to pound. The wilderness in us yearns for the hunt. We move through the green pastures of your tamed beasts. We can still our blood no longer. So we run. We speed towards the fires of your homes. We urge for the screams of night. We run – hungry for the kill. Darkness is coming. The night is ours.