a chasm opened in the earth and out of it coal-black horses sprang, drawing a chariot and driven by one who had a look of dark splendor, majestic and beautiful and terrible.

timrothy:

I HUNT THEREFORE I AM — For werewolves who live by themselves and will never be back home; who hear the call of the wild and howl to the bright full moon above their heads. After their transformation, their whole bodies quiver, and their lips trickle down drops of blood.

(listen)

Notes
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