A misty day has dawned upon the vale, with sheep to mind, traps to spring, wood to stack. The meek will tend to chores in drab detail; the wary shepherd signals the attack upon the wolves descending on the flock. the blood of lambs upon forbidden jaw the same as that upon the butcher's smock, yet wolf must die - that is the law of men who in their mighty wisdom bring the forests quaking to their knees. No game to spy, the raven sadly sings of men still stalking shadows through the trees. The wolves must hunt to keep their nature pure, but mankind's reasoning is now obscure.