He flooded three valleys in his rage, so they sent you to bind his storms, but the binding fused you to him instead, and now every flare of his temper soaks you both.
He learned to feed on the ache in music instead of bodies, so he mixes records alone in a basement studio, and he just realized he's been starving himself beside the one voice that could actually fill him.
He builds himself a new moon-cell every month so his wolf can't reach a soul, and tonight the moon came a day early, so he's pressing the only key into your hand and begging you to lock him in.
