Yet to share that first bloodied kiss,
a wondrous, agonising wait.
A soft fluttering of the now still heart,
as you led me to Death's gate.

Aloof I may be,
and distracted I may seem.
But I am distracted with visions of you,
Haunting my every step, my every thought, my every dream.

We have no reason to rush ourselves,
we have til the end of time.
I already swear myself to you.
My blood is yours.. is yours mine?

What we have, my sweet misery, though subtle,
Is more powerful than any... siren's call.
Together we shall remain and linger,
Until the world itself does fall.

I live (ha!) for the hunt, my sweetness.
This you already know.
So come hunting with me this winter, in the dead of night,
We'll watch steam rise from blood in the snow.


Penned by my hand on the 8th of Chakros, in the year 173 MA.