Whose wings no wind may tame;
With Life in her heart and a knife in her hand,
Each grave declares her fame!
With horned skull and cane;
With Death in his heart and a laugh on his lips,
no man dare speak his name!
With the sky for tail and mane;
With the forge in its heart and the world for its skin,
And amid its bones sits Qayin!
of North, West, South and East.
All-hail to the Path that turns our step
‘twixt God and Man and Beast!
“Salute of the Knave and the Maid to the Turnskin’s Retinue” © Andrew Chumbley
Via Combusta 
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