Chapter 11: The Pale Beauty

One young lass through the forest walks,
On her youthful face the smile is bright
Her skin is pale and her teeth
Like silver mist in the light.

And of her eyes the bird there sings
While cold dark night claims the day,
a singing tale, the story brings
Of shining stars and spells of Fay.

A distant howl through woodland sounds

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It's echo roams through peaks with might
The fearful song, the hunting call
Of lonely wolf, the beast of night.

Raven's song the story tells
As among the trees, the dark birds fly
It's crooked voice the image brings
Of blackest darkness beneath the sky.

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