This week is Tamriel Vault’s very first Hug a Werewolf Week. And so I thought it would be a great idea if we hunted down some poems from TSC in way of tribute to the lord and Master of the Hunt.
So let’s get writing my hounds and earn Hircine’s favor. It don’t matter if your poems are about Hircine, werewolves in general or even specific Lycanthropes, post your poems here and howl out for the glory of the hunt.
Sotek Loyal Hound Of Hircine
This week is Tamriel Vault’s very first Hug a Werewolf Week. And so I thought it would be a great idea if we hunted down some poems from TSC in way of tribute to the lord and Master of the Hunt.
So let’s get writing my hounds and earn Hircine’s favor. It don’t matter if your poems are about Hircine, werewolves in general or even specific Lycanthropes, post your poems here and howl out for the glory of the hunt.
Sotek Loyal Hound Of Hircine
Lets get this hunt started.
ONE BEAT
His is the world of fire and ice.
Of leathery wings soaring over the storm filled skies.
The mountains range so cold, full of dread
To whom only tread the brave,
or the dead.
Her world’s claws and fur, desire….
The hunt is her lust when the plains she treads.
Every sound unmissed by the Huntresses ear.
Every move is seen, sincere.
How then two beings, so far apart,
Lie closely together, naked, heart to heart?
His world is fire,
Her world is fur.
Four hearts inside them beat,
a steady rhythm of dancing feet.
Despite hearts of man, woman and untamable beasts,
joined as one they find inner peace.
Two souls fill the bodies that lay in each other’s arms.
Souls within souls trapped like raging storms inside.
Yet only together the howling winds die and calms.
One heart thuds, hammering like a single drum.
A unison of beats, under the twin moons, the sun.
Matters not lay the man with the woman,
or two beasts covered in fur.
Together forever,
Despite Daedra, man or mer…
Four Hearts.
Two Worlds.
One Beat.
Lets get this hunt started.
ONE BEAT
His is the world of fire and ice.
Of leathery wings soaring over the storm filled skies.
The mountains range so cold, full of dread
To whom only tread the brave,
or the dead.
Her world’s claws and fur, desire….
The hunt is her lust when the plains she treads.
Every sound unmissed by the Huntresses ear.
Every move is seen, sincere.
How then two beings, so far apart,
Lie closely together, naked, heart to heart?
His world is fire,
Her world is fur.
Four hearts inside them beat,
a steady rhythm of dancing feet.
Despite hearts of man, woman and untamable beasts,
joined as one they find inner peace.
Two souls fill the bodies that lay in each other’s arms.
Souls within souls trapped like raging storms inside.
Yet only together the howling winds die and calms.
One heart thuds, hammering like a single drum.
A unison of beats, under the twin moons, the sun.
Matters not lay the man with the woman,
or two beasts covered in fur.
Together forever,
Despite Daedra, man or mer…
Four Hearts.
Two Worlds.
One Beat.
Just something quick - I might post something more susbstantial later in the week:
There once was a Werewolf called Rard,
He loved to run round in the yard,
He ran round all day,
Hunted down all his prey,
Then was killed by the village guard.
Just something quick - I might post something more susbstantial later in the week:
There once was a Werewolf called Rard,
He loved to run round in the yard,
He ran round all day,
Hunted down all his prey,
Then was killed by the village guard.