Shado-Pan

Muisje

<Hounds of Hell>

(UE) Stormreaver

Elfo de sangre Maestro de cerveza Monje

Shado-Pan

No robe of patches, no yogin’s hut in a secluded mountain gulch, but still, each morning, I long for a poetry with the taste of gnarled wood, a poetry to make children laugh and old men glad, of little solitary humans in cloud-covered mountains, poetry wrapped in mist or moonlight, where there are deer and wild cranes, dark clutching forests, simple things: tea, wine, moonlight, those calm fleeting pleasures, for each night the world comes at me swifter and swifter, wave upon wave.