Its The Time Of The Siege
I sharpen my battle claws
And my pulse goes up
And I hear the warning calls
Hundreds of owls, ready to fight
Hundreds of owls, to die in flight
Plunging into the vast sea
Or killed by others
But, I don't think like the pure ones
We are all sisters and brothers
And if I die in flight I'm sure
I'm glad I died a guardian, and not pure
"Short and sweet, Chrie always says"
