There is never a night without a song, and never a moon without a voice. If there ever was such a place, it would surely be shallow and distant, frozen and fragile. Why is it that we sing, turn our faces to the cold moonlight? For what cause are we longing, bathing in the lunar red reflection? A wolf without a cadre, is alone and often broken. A wolf without a cadre, wanders without knowing where they're going to. We sing because it is who we are, and also a part of us. We sing because it brings us closer as a pack, and in memory of the fallen. Without song, we would be nothing, our souls empty. We cry for the night's seal, and stain the world in a sea of blood. Wolves live their lives in the company of their cadre, they depend on one another. They care for their brethren as their own flesh and blood. This is their natural order. I don't care if you take my eyes, for I'm already blind. I don't need my sight, to see the way in which I'm walking, even if my destination is uncertain. I don't need my voice to speak, for this land is already deaf. We sing because it bonds us, and yet I sing alone. A wolf without a cadre sacrifices its order and instinct, trading them in for solace. They live an unnatural life of solitude. That is why I sing alone. Where is the voice of my cadre, for my song no longer joins them. This land is silent, and the moon is frail. It spills its light into the sickly earth, and bathes me in its emptiness. There is nothing that can ever fill that hole, and even if there was, would I be willing to let it? I've lived this blissful lie, knowing all the while. Somewhere deep within my veins, I knew and could never deny. This style of living is unnatural, but so has become the once ancestral earth. The Dire gaze their eyes upon their descendents with complete disgust. We have altered this life, we have destroyed the natural order. Wolves sing because they are never alone, but how could this be? Have I lost my origin, or have I been living false memories? I sing because it is who I am, even if I am alone. I sing to remember that which I have forgotten, and that forgotten which was never remembered. I carved this way of life, asking none to follow its binds. For once you take those first steps, it grows harder and harder to turn back. There is no middle ground, no cut between. It implants its ideals into your soul, and compels you to seek, to run, and turn away. To deny everything, but this unnatural life. I sing for my lost soul, and bare my burdens. I will carry it with me forever, as my heart and name. So that I may never forgot.

There is never a night without a song, and never a moon without a voice. A wolf without a cadre, is alone and often broken. A wolf without a cadre, wanders without knowing where they're going to. A wolf without a cadre sacrifices its order and instinct, trading them in for solace. They live an unnatural life of solitude. I've sacrificed everything, just to keep singing. And singing, alone.