I know it clear this one Year it yells among the holy Bells Come-to Vitrunian Cage, to this grim and haunting Age Haunts with Grim (the Mortal Ones) I am Son of This (threatening Native) So misanthrophic to regular unknown Man Once a Autumn Night my Hunger demands and I rose from my cold Bed (of rock) as the dark worrying Mists hovers above the remote Forest Ridges... I perceived some feeble Voices strange and feared they sounds to me I scented Humans far away of their Houses Sudden my Hunger demands to gaze upon them and the Darkwoods gave me a feeling like:.. It's time to do the Harvest I chose my lovely Human Mask made of beauty yesteryear Virginskin I insured I am Keeper of the Woods and guide your Bunch to a Path out of here back to where your Flock rules