Floating

Heart Grown Primal

I've screwed a coffin nail between my fangs, and I'm ready to haunt the night. I ride out on the backs of ghosts to greet the waxing moon, knowing full well there will be blood involved. My fingers gripping the stones beneath me I run with lust and fervor, I know not where, but I will make it there by the skin of my teeth. Each time the sun sets I awake to fight, and take my prey by strength and cunning, for these are the traits I honor in myself, and holding the counsel of teeth and claw I am for all nights, a hunter at heart. I run as I wish, I track in the mists and I follow the scent of new beasts. Between these breaths of smoke I call out the right Magic to find my quarry, and take flight, with steel in hand... I am at my most natural when my heart has grown primal