Wolves ahowl in day's twilight,

Bats afluttr in moonlight

But one soul runs, aware his fate,

Fearing the manner of death he has claimed.

Rooks pierce the sky with cries,

Folk lie cleft apart like twine,

But one soul stands to face his fate,,

For the Witcher, sworn to oath

Fights not for boasts.

Cutting and slicing,

Chopping and dicing,

He'll eat you up whole.

Eat. You. Whole.