The Wolves Return

Snow seals the gate, old banners fray, But five still know the mountain way. I come home first through sleet and scar, Two swords worn dull by roads afar. The halls are thin, the fires are few, I light the hearth the old pack knew. No court will mourn, no bard will know - But I still hear their steps in snow. When the Continent cries through blood and flame, When no crowned lord will face the blame, Call through the dark, call through the storm - From Kair Morhen, the wolves return. Though our line fades, though our keep may burn, Where monsters rise, the wolves return. The eldest hand still tends the flame, And counts the dead behind each name. He taught us mercy, steel, and cost - How men stay human after loss. A quiet blade, a scarred old face, He bears his wounds without display. No boast, no crown, no need for fame - He guards the hearth and keeps the name. His laughter bites, his anger stays; He curses fate, yet walks its ways. He hates the Trial, the chains, the brand - Yet stands beside us, hand to hand. When the Continent cries through blood and flame, When no crowned lord will face the blame, Call through the dark, call through the storm - From Kair Morhen, the wolves return. Though our line fades, though our keep may burn, Where monsters rise, the wolves return. No vial remade me, no Trial’s brand; They made me kin by heart and hand. Through shattered worlds, through death and flame, I choose the wolf. I keep the name. Five shadows cast by one last flame, A dying school still keeps its name. No new blades rise, no school bells ring, Still winter hears our silver sing. When the Continent cries through blood and flame, We answer still, without acclaim. From broken walls to roads unknown, The wolves return - no wolf alone. Though legends fade and old stones mourn, While one soul needs us, wolves return. Snow seals the gate. The embers burn. The world still calls. The wolves return.