Dreams are always fickle my dears, and the world is transient enough.
Through will alone, to create form from potential. I wonder if any of them realize that they do the weaver's work? ...I wonder if it could be learned.
Do not judge them to harshly, we have all kept them from knowing better.
Arbeit macht frei, dearest. You may not have built camps, but your genocide was just the same. You stepped away from the work of the wyld, to take on the role of the wyrm without being asked. The blood will forever be upon you, and some will never forgive.
Do you know the most important step a man can take?
Ah, my fellow bloodsuckers of the night, how good it is to be among you, I of course am from clan... *a glance to smudged writing on her hand* ... Fangrel.
It is always with open arms, that we damn ourselves.