Graveheart

I was brought up by wolves in a sheep cave in the rainy Anatolian highlands. There was thunder and lightning, and full moon. Seldom has the world seen such flippant frog legs coming to a monk in the odd days. None in the neighbourhood had ever heard the cries, but fewer still had caught a glimpse of the terrible yet strikingly bog-eyed mother of moths that held residence in the soul of the backwalkers of man and beast about.