Wild hearts,
Beat as one.
Our fire broils,
And blood shall run.

For You we pray,
We cry, we learn.
For You we rise,
We fight, overcome.

Echoes of memories,
Of two Siblings Lost,
But as we mourn today,
There's hope in the Frost.

Through winter, and slumber, and destruction we see,
The tiniest of saplings, yearning to break free.
Winter turns to Spring, and life begins anew,
And with all the growth before us, we know we shouldn't rue.

But the anguish that we felt, upon each mortal wound,
Feels so completely hollow compared to missing You.
I'll wear my scars proudly, a sign that that You remain,
Within the heart of us each, despite all this pain.

And though we may weep, please worry for us not.
For these wild hearts can't be broken, these spirits can't rot.
Forged by the Hunt and the Cataclysm we stand,
Forever touched by Your teachings as if by a brand.

May we honour Your memory, the best that we can,
So You may know that through it all united we stand.
Arani, Meai Waipokoi, may We meet again,
In another world, another lifetime, or through Fate's hand.

Forever in service,

Irissa Ataraia

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Sarapin, in the year 845 AF.