The Briar Wolf

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MuseFire

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In Briar Hollow, shadows lie, where children's laughter used to sigh.
An ancient curse, a hunger deep, the Briar Wolf stalks from its moonlit sleep.
Empty watchtowers, embers low, no guard can halt this age-old foe.

And Grimwald rose, with heart of stone, to hunt the shadowed beast alone.
A father's grief, his sharpened blade, a vow in whispered darkness made.
For vengeance burns in moonlit eyes, the hunter swift, where evil lies.

Through tangled woods and whispering pines, he tracked the beast to its shadowed shrines.
The scent of blood, a chilling cry, where stolen babes beneath brambles lie.
A memory stirs, a wolf's cold gaze, a child's terror in bygone days.

And Grimwald rose, with heart of stone, to hunt the shadowed beast alone.
A father's grief, his sharpened blade, a vow in whispered darkness made.
For vengeance burns in moonlit eyes, the hunter swift, where evil lies.

The legends true, the whispers old, of every generation's hold
His father fell, his sister fled, the weight of blood upon him bled.
This final hunt, a warrior's pride, to end the curse, nowhere to hide.

The Briar Wolf rose, a monstrous form, fangs bared within the swirling storm.
A clash of steel and snapping jaw, where hunter's blood met crimson paw.
But Grimwald fought with fury's might, for stolen light and childhood's night.

And broken hearts in Briar Hollow, a somber song the minstrels follow.
For Grimwald stands, a weary knight, his victory bathed in pale moonlight.
The village sleeps, yet shadows keep, a silent vow the children sleep...

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