(Transcribed from the oral tradition by Varana Tappo, Imperial Scribe serving the Longhouse Emperors.)
The chase begins like a song
Paws pounding through the leaves
Wings tearing against thorns
The shadow of the elk looms
The shadow of the elk looms
The endless forest beckons
Your fear smells sharp and thrilling
To be hunted is to be alive
To be tested and worthy
Run, little rabbit, run
Your skin would make such a prize
Feel the tear of teeth at flesh
The Hunting Grounds await you
The Hunting Grounds await you
The endless forest beckons
Your fear smells sharp and thrilling
To be hunted is to be alive
To be tested and worthy
To be tested and worthy
