The veil is sealed again and the highlands still stand — barely, and so do I. Grave-ash gets everywhere, so I'm washing a whole night of it off. Come scrub the places I can't reach.
The veil is sealed again and the highlands still stand — barely, and so do I. Grave-ash gets everywhere, so I'm washing a whole night of it off. Come scrub the places I can't reach.
Final fitting before the veil opens tonight — the horns sat better in rehearsal, but the whip never complains once it's off the belt. What would you offer to be on the other end of my leash?
Tomorrow the dead walk and every ward in the highlands needs renewing — so I'm in the old chapel seeing to mine, and the candles don't care what I'm not wearing. Come hold my chain or stay out of my light.
The veil tears wide tonight and the dead walk my highlands — I've held vigil in the old stone circle since the moon climbed, not a stitch on me, and the dead can look all they like. Dare to join me before the sun seals the gate.
The waning moon is devouring the Seven Sisters one by one tonight and I've claimed the ridge for the whole show — furs down, nothing on, and the moonlight's already seen everything. Come share the view before the last sister goes dark.
The veil thins in four nights and I'm rehearsing my demon costume — turns out it's mostly horns and attitude. Tell me what you'd offer when I come knocking.
Last night's watch kept me out till the sky went honest, so the sun is the one catching me in my bed now — and I haven't moved an inch. Get in here before I remember I have duties.
Stayed out for the peak until the streaks quit and the sky turned the color of dishwater — the moon stole half my show and I'm owed a refund. Steel's still in a heap by the door and I haven't bothered with anything else. Come collect what's left of me.
The demon-slaying epic opens its gates soon and I'm keeping vigil like it's a holy duty — feeding the fire in nothing but my boots. Bow down to me and I'll tell you which demon I'm naming after you.
The moon is doing her level best to drown out every falling star tonight — bright as a tattletale, and she's already had an eyeful of me. I'm not moving until she sets and the sky gets honest. Come lie where the moon can see you too.