“When we die, and follow the hounds into the hollows, and the great spirit into the glen, where mead flows and delivers a river of happiness to all who drink of it know that I wish you well. I call you brother. We will go to a place far from this madness, the confusion, the pain and despair to storm the ramparts once more again, but not here, not here. The world too small for us, for you. Henceforth speak of the past no more and rush forth to the ships at sea and let us leave this land to hurry home. Forever deathless, forever faithful, forever friends, forever free…” Michael Kurcina Last Rites

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