Its The Time Of The Siege

I sharpen my battle claws

And my pulse goes up

And I hear the warning calls

Hundreds of owls, ready to fight

Hundreds of owls, to die in flight

Plunging into the vast sea

Or killed by others

But, I don't think like the pure ones

We are all sisters and brothers

And if I die in flight I'm sure

I'm glad I died a guardian, and not pure


"Short and sweet, Chrie always says"