It was a gray wolf, common to Transylvania, but its strength and size were unusual. It was clearly a… — David Clement-Davies

As a she-cub is whelped with a coat that is white,

And human child stolen to suckle the Sight

From a place where injustice was secretly done

Then the Marked One is here and a legend begun.

When Wolfbane is dreamt of with terror and dread,

And untamed are tamed, prepare for the dead.

For the Shape Changer's pact with the birds will come true,

When the blood of the Varg blends with Man's in the dew,

As the Searchers are tempted, who hunger and prowl

Down the Pathways of Death, by the summoning howl.

Then the truest of powers will be fleshed on the bone

And the Searchers tempt nature to prey on its own.

With blood at the altar, the Vision shall come

When the eye of the moon is as round as the sun.

In the citadel raised by the lords of before,

The Stone twins await-both the power and the law.

Then the past and the future shall finally show,

To the wounded, the secret the Lera must know.

And all shall be witness to that which will be,

In the mind of the Man Varg, then none shall be free.

And only a family both loving and true,

May conquer the evil, so ancient, so new.

As they fight to uncover what secrets they share

And see in their journey how painful is care.

Beware the Betrayer, whose meaning is strife,

For their faith shall be tried by the markers of life,

And who shall divine, in the dead of the night,

The lies from the truth, the darkness from light?

Like the cry of the scavenger, torn through the air

A courage is needed, as deep as despair.

"A pack works together, Bran," he cried. "Don't ever forget that. If we don't have that, what by Tor and Fenris do we have?"

"A good lesson for survival, children. When we can't find game, wolves must look to the flying Lera to aid us and scavenge a meal. Although we are Putnar, we must listen for their calls on the air, too, for as the park works together, so all nature must aid itself."