Timmain's Choice

	Wolfsong rises, distant, clear;
	High Ones hear its plaintive cry.
	Some elves quake and curl in fear
	One awakens to reply:

	"Brother Wolf, what is that sound
	That shivers all my skin to fur?
	Why does it make me turn around
	To put aside what we once were?"

	"Sister Elf, you'll wonder not
	You can guard your weakling friends
	And feed them on the game you caught
	In the _Now_ that never ends."

	"Brother, in my new form Lover,
	On me alone the elves depend.
	Some other way I must discover
	To avert my race's bitter end."

	"Sister, cheiftess-mate, my beauty,
	The Wolfpack's all the race I know.
	To fill their bellies is my duty,
	To sire cubs, and watch them grow."

	"Brother, dare I do that deed
	I contemplate within my womb?
	Desperate now my race's need
	But Wolfblood brings a mortal's doom!"

	"Sister, if you take the seed
	And mortal span your cubs assume,
	Heart and fire and strength and speed
	Will make your race's lifeblood bloom!"

	"Brother, grant me through our son
	Union with this foreign land.
	I howl with you and we are one
	In _Now_, your song I understand."

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