The Hunt is On

I hear the hoofbeats hammer

I hear the howling on the wind

I hear the gait of sword, spear, and gun

The Hunt is on

I smell the slathering sweat

I smell the steel in the wound

I smell the breath of God, grave, and snow

The Hunt is on

I see the sky split

I see the spray of blood

I see the wend of Host, heroes, and Sleipnir

The Hunt is on

I taste the tears’ trail

I taste the take of the kill

I taste the marrow of the wicked, warlocks, and traitors

The Hunt is on

I feel the fury flow

I feel the frenzy of the Ride

I feel the call of the vaettir, Valkyries, and Fráriðr

The Hunt is on

The Hunt is on

The Hunt is on

Patreon Song/Poem/Prayer 16 -For Úlfheðnarfóðir -We Find You

If you want to submit a request for a prayer, poem, or song to be written to you privately or to be posted on this blog or my Patreon for a God, Ancestor, or spirit, sign up for the Ansuz and above level here on my Patreon. This prayer was requested from Maleck Odinsson for Úlfheðnarfóðir.

Úlfheðnarfóðir

We find You

Standing before our blessed kin

We find You

Blood boiling and bared fangs

We find You

Howling, writhing, wrapped within ourselves

We find You

Our ónd pulses with power

We find You

Our hamr hallowed

We find You

Forest, field, and fen under our feet

We find You

Concrete, rebar, and ruin before us

We find You

Fighting, fucking, and fierce joy filling us

We find You

Scruffed, the pups are secure

You Find us

Lost and lonely are led to love and pack

You Find us

The broken and battered are healed

You Find us

The raging and wrathful are directed

You Find us

Blessed in blood

You Find us

Honored in ónd

You Find us

Hallowed in hamr

You Find us

By howl and hand, fang and fury

Hail and Honor to You, Úlfheðnarfóðir!

The Call

I can hear your paws grab the earth, your hooves strike the ground
I can smell your fur, your excitement as you all are bidden on
I can taste your fury, the adrenaline on the wind
I can feel your gait, your strides as you seek
I can see your numbers, your countless multitudes that gallop and run
I know your call, your howling, trumpeting, shrieking mass that calls me
The Wild Host calls!  Wuotas Heer calls!  The Wild Hunt calls!