The last time she was in Fjerda was for the Ice Court heist, she never thought she'd be back in this country again but here she was—to fulfil a promise she'd made to him a while ago.

As the Djerholm harbour came into view a bright memory flashed: Nina had made a huge sacrifice to free them and keep the secret of jurda parem out of Fjerdan hands. The drug that had made their victory possible, and it had exacted an awful price, changing the course of Nina's life and the very nature of her Grisha power.

If they'd never gone to the Ice Court, would Matthias still be alive? Would Nina's heart still be whole? Pointless questions. There was no answer that would bring him back. Saints, she missed her friends. It would've been easier with them around. Wylan would be intimidated to be back in Fjerda, Jesper would've cracked a dozen jokes in the first five minutes, Nina would've probably worn her blonde wig and the obnoxious Fjerdan costume she wore in Ketterdam and Kaz would be scheming as usual.

Aeolian pulled up her hood, she knew the chances of her being recognised were slim but it was a force of habit to wear her hood in crowded areas. She could've tailored her appearance if she wanted. But the Shu's were proud people and they never tailored their faces, and she had no intentions to do so.

"Jormanen end denam danne näskelle," someone said, the traditional Fjerdan greeting to travelers as she stepped foot on the harbour. Be welcome and wait out the storm.

"Grannem end kerjenning grante jut onter kelholm," Aeolian said in traditional reply. I thank you and bring only gratitude to your home.

Nina had buried Matthias in his homeland, but she took two long months to do so. Nina was unable to let him go, she'd cried herself to sleep at night. Aeolian had heard it all from Adrik, the Grisha who'd helped Nina bury Matthias. And he was the one who had drew the map for Aeolian so, that she could find Matthias' final resting place.

She was heading to Gäfvalle but to be on the safe side, she'd to stop by Djerholm. So that the people of that small town won't get suspicious seeing her all matte black ship. She had brought a friend along in this quest of hers.

Pope was Zemeni, with short dark hair and brown eyes. But he wasn't as tall as the other Zemeni guys she encountered. He worked as a gardener at Councilman Hoede mansion, that's how they met. But after Hoede's tragedy Pope was posted to Hoede's summer house.

She thought she'd never see him again but after she left Shu Han, she stumbled across him. He'd left his job as a gardener and became a navigator on ships instead, because he wanted to travel the world. When Aeolian had asked him to join her for this quest, he'd gladly accepted: noting that he'd never been to Fjerda.

They weren't close but when they were working with Hoede, Aeolian had noticed that he was a good tracker. He'd track rabbits, snakes and other
reptiles that make their nests in the gardens of the Councilmen, if there was any infestation—Pope was called because he could track animals with little effort. And she needed someone like him for what she's about to do next.

As Pope went to get a sledge for them, she sat on a stone bench and looked up at the Ice Court. The Fjerdans had repaired the damages and tightened security immensely after what she and her friends had done to it. But Aeolian didn't feel sorry for the damages—they'd rescued Kuwei and saved the Grisha from the plight of jurda parem.

If Kaz was here, his brain would've been itching for another break at the Ice Court. Anything that's locked attracts him like a moth to a flame. He likes to test his limits, but he never leaves anything to chance. She wondered if he ever thinks about her, like she does. Maybe he does when he needed to collect information or want someone to rile up, she thought annoyingly.

GÄFVALLE

The town was located in the shadow of a low mountain range, beneath the hulking shape of what had once been a fort and then a munitions factory lodged into the cliffside high above it.

There were no proper inns, only a public house with two guest rooms that were already occupied. The owner told them that the convent up the hill sometimes boarded lodgers. They had to rest for the night and Aeolian had hoped that the convent would be kind enough to let them spend the night, she didn't want to spend the night on the cold like she did back then—during the ice court heist.

She recalled a moment when she was almost freezing in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep. Kaz had somehow noticed it—like he always does and made a little fire for her. They sat together and watched the night sky in comfortable silence. There they saw a shooting star.

She closed her eyes and wished, "I wish someone will remember us, even in another time."

Because she wanted people to know how great her friends were and how deep their loyalty lies.

"Us," Kaz spoke softly. "I like the sound of that."

She didn't know why but she wanted to dance with him under the stars, it was a stupid thought and she shoved it away. But she realised he had a place in her heart no one else could have.

Pope poked her arm as she came back to her senses, and she could see why he was poking her. Aeolian was surprised as well to glimpse signs of the Saints, in places she knew were not dedicated to the Hringsa network. She had seen them on the road too—altars bearing the symbol of Sankta Alina instead of Djel's sacred ash tree. There had been talk of miracles and strange happenings throughout Ravka, and it seemed new fervor for the Saints had taken hold in Fjerda as well.

It was risky to be so public about heresy with soldiers close by, but perhaps these were small acts of rebellion for the townspeople who resented the military men standing watch up at the factory.

The convent was located on the northern outskirts of town, almost directly down the slope from the factory. They left their sledge in the stables and rang the bell at the convent's side door.

The Wellmother answered. Aeolian made the introductions in Fjerdan, explaining that she was travelling with her husband. The Wellmother studied them for a long moment, then said. "This is the first time I'm meeting an odd pair."

Aeolian knew what the old lady meant, a Zemeni guy and a Shu girl together. The Fjerdans were narrow minded people, and ordinary people in Fjerda don't go and marry people from other races.

Aeolian gently reached for Pope's hand and said. "Love is love, and we are lucky we found it at a young age."

Pope couldn't understand Fjerdan but he just played along, giving Aeolian a warm loving smile. If only the Wellmother knew, they weren't married and only faking it to get a room. They'd be kicked out of the convent.

The woman gave a deep sigh, then instructed them on the rules and routine of the convent. They both nodded in agreement. She then directed them to a room: it had two single beds, a desk and a chair and a narrow window to look out. They were in a convent so even if they were married, they had separate beds.

As they were left alone she let loose her long hair, and brushed it looking out at the valley, at the dense forest. It felt like a quiet place where people came to build their homes and try to make a life for themselves, where the business of soldiers and wars was nothing but an intrusion.

Nina and Matthias might have made their home in a place like this. Nina would have longed for people and excitement; Matthias would have grumbled for quiet. They would have found a way to compromise.

◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️

Aeolian rose early so that she could take a warm bath and wash her hair. She had to fill the buckets with water from a well that stood a good distance away from the building, she then collected firewoods to heat the icy water. They were paying to stay at the convent, she thought irritably, there should be help around. But her morning chores paid off as she felt energetic and refreshed after her bath.

By the time she was air drying her hair, Pope had freshened up and breakfast served. It was black tea with loaves and goat cheese. It wasn't appealing but they needed to fill their bellies so they did. After breakfast—Pope packed their stuffs and paid the Wellmother, while Aeolian sat on a bench and tied her hair into two fishtail braids.

As they left town, her mind wandered: wondered why she'd survived so much—stab wounds to falling off roofs, kidnap, Kaz Brekker's mad heists, and the ordeal the Empress put her through. She was the only known Shu to have lived through the wrath of the Empress.

What had made everything possible? Was it her undying luck? Was it her spirit of survival? Chance, fortune, fate. She didn't know what name to give to it. Sometimes it felt like the divine had kept her in this world through the sheer force of his will.

Aeolian pulled out a little flask from her backpack, poured a small amount of black fluid into a copper cup, and handed it to Pope.

"What is that exactly?" He took it skeptically.

"It's distilled from pine tar. It's good for fighting the cold." She told him. "My friend Matthias introduced it to us."

Pope took a sip and instantly began coughing and pounding his chest. "Saints, it's disgusting. How can you drink that?"

They'd the same reaction to it when Matthias' had given it to them back then.

"I thought it'll kill us. So we don't have to worry about the cold anymore." She almost laughed as she poured herself a cup of the black liquid.

"Very funny," he shook his head, then at last he asked. "You never told me how your friend died?"

Aeolian wasn't certain what to say. Or if she wanted to say anything at all. But the specifics of the Ketterdam auction were known to most in Kerch and Pope knew that she'd been running with a gang of criminals, not any gang of criminals but with Dirtyhands himself.

"I don't really know. The worst of the mission was over. We thought we were all safe. But then Matthias showed up, bleeding. He'd been shot." She explained, "but he'd found his way to Nin's, despite the fatal wound, despite the pain he was in. For one last kiss, for a final goodbye."

There were drüskelle in the city, and they certainly had their reasons for wanting Matthias dead. But they all had prices on their heads. People were hungry for their blood. She could still see his blood staining his shirt, she could still hear him say. Nina, I am already home. Matthias didn't tell them who was responsible, he hadn't wanted to burden Nina with that. He'd known she would strike out in her grief. He knew her, he understood her, he loved her.

"Wow," he spoke softly. "The most valuable thing one can own is the assurance of a place in someone's heart."

Aeolian nodded in agreement, Matthias heart was Nina and Nina's was Matthias'. They were twin souls, soldiers destined to fight for different sides, to find each other and lose each other too quickly. She hoped laying Matthias to rest had help free Nina's heart from burden.

After walking for hours, they finally found the spot—a copse of trees by the riverbank, a place where travelers might come to rest and where the water eddied as if the river were resting too. Adrik had noted that, they'd made a mark on the particular tree under which Matthias was buried.

"We're here," Aeolian mumbled as she found the tree with the marking, it had the largest trunk among the other trees. She folded the map neatly and dropped it inside her coat pocket. She knew Matthias deserved more. Something full of pomp and ceremony, a funeral fit for a hero even if his people believed he was a traitor. But sadly, it had only been Nina and Adrik who buried him.

She wished her friends were besides her, they were his crew, his family and they'll deserved to see where Matthias was buried. She was grateful to Pope, but he hadn't known Matthias. He had only known the Fjerdan as a traitor and a thief as Matthias' wanted posters were hung up all over Ketterdam.

Pope had missed the opportunity to know who the real Matthias Benedik Helvar was: he was a brave Fjerdan, loyal, religious, kind with full of love to give. Even though he was superstitious and dogmatic, he had been open to new ideas and learning's. He wasn't a traitor like his Drüskelle brothers said he was; whatever he did, he did for his country and even during his last breath he had kept his promise to Fjerda. I've been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath.

No mourned no funerals, was what the Dregs said. A dark wink to the fact that there would be no expensive burials for people like them, no marble markers to remember their names, no wreaths of myrtle and rose. And Matthias' grave had reflected the dark wink behind those words.

Now Aeolian kneeled on the cold ground. He was with Djel, he was with his god. She'd known death all her life but losing a friend like Matthias had left a hole in her heart. Gently, she placed the bouquet of snowdrops she'd collected on her way. Her voice wobbled "...I know you've found nirvana Matthias. I'll see you in the next." Nirvana, a place of perfect peace.

She knew what came now. I'll bring him home, Matthias, I'll bring Trassel home.

Trassel the white wolf of Matthias. The isenulf, wolves were bred to go into battle with the drüskelle. The wolf wasn't a pet but a warrior, a brother. And when it's master dies, they are returned to the wild, but are never accepted by any pack. And what is a wolf without a pack? The isenulf are not meant to live alone.

When the other drüskelle decided Matthias was dead, they'd send his wolf back to the wild and Aeolian knew that—the idea of his wolf left alone, howling for Matthias to come and take him home, carved a hollow ache in his chest.

Aeolian had told Matthias back then, "after all this is over, we can bring him home."

"You mean to Ketterdam?" His brows shot up.

"With our coffers full, I'm positive we can make some arrangements. Whether it be Fjerda, Kerch or Ravka." She smiled.

Matthias smiled back, "he'd like you."

She smirked, "of course he would."

And even though Matthias wasn't here anymore to do what he intended to do. Aeolian was, and she didn't intent to leave Trassel—Matthias wolf, his brother—alone in the wilderness, she'll find him and she'll bring him home.

She wanted to say something for Matthias. So she drew a long, shaky breath. "Matthias Benedik Helvar was a soldier and a hero. He saved Nina from drowning. He kept them alive on the ice. He endured months in the worst prison in the world for a crime he didn't commit. He forgave Nina for betraying him. He accepted us, fought beside us, and when he could have abandoned us at the ice court—he turned his back on the only country he'd ever known instead. For that, he was branded a traitor. But he wasn't. He believed his country could be more than it had been. He lived with honor and died with it too." Her voice broke. "He wasn't always a good man, but he had a good heart. A great, strong heart that should have kept beating for years and years. He and Nina deserved the world and more...but Djel had other plans for him."

She wiped a tear from her eye. Matthias was home to the land he loved and even though he wasn't with Nina in person, he'd watch over her from the other side. That kind of love never dies. It was time to say her last goodbye.

"Goodbye Matthias, my friend." She finally rose up.

◾️▪️◾️▪️◾️

Matthias had told her that the drüskelle wolves who's masters dies were dropped off to the other side of the Stelge river. He'd even mentioned how Trassel stood out among the other wolves, he had a deep visible scar running through his face turning one of his eye yellow as he had been tortured by a kid when he was a pup.

The isenulf, never forgets it's own name or it's master even after years of abandonment. But they'd a serious disadvantage, Matthias was really dead and he wasn't coming back and even if they find his wolf, there was no guarantee that the wolf would come with them and things could go seriously wrong as he might attack them.

They might bring him home or might be seriously injured or worse. Aeolian knew what she was going to do was insane and she was putting both her and Pope's safety at risk but she'd always taken risks, she'd always tested her limits time and again. This was who she was and she'd survived, when will her luck eventually run out?

Dusk had fallen by the time they crossed the river and the sky looked more gray than purple, the air felt moist. They'd walked for about an half hour when snow had begun to fall in gentle drifts. It didn't stay gentle for long. Aeolian had never seen a storm come on so fast. The wind blew hard, and snow blurred the whole world white.

Gruzeburya was the name for this wind. The Brute. Not for the cold it brought but for the way it blinded you like a thug in a dirty fight. Aeolian had suggested that, they turned back but Pope had told her they might stray too close to the banks and fall in.

They trudged on, squinting against the white hand in hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid. They had not been made for such places. And they wouldn't survive a night without shelter in this weather. They had no choice but to continue on.

Then, like a miracle, the wind lifted, the curtains of snow seemed to part, and they saw a dark shape in the distance.

"Maybe, it's a camp." Aeolian said. Pope looked skeptical but as they drew closer, there was only the swaying bodies of a copse of trees.

Aeolian bite down her frustration, she was only a teenager but she felt so tired. Everything behind her seem bright and everything before her looked bleak. Maybe she hadn't come here for Trassel. Maybe she'd come out here to the ice, to this cold and unforgiving place, to die. The water hears and understands, the ice doesn't forgive.

"I think we should take shelter under the trees for the night," Pope had suggested.

But before they could take another step, there was five hulking shapes in the snow. Wolves. She came here for Trassel and fate had brought five wolves before them. She wanted to scream.

The wolves prowled around them in a circle, surrounding them, cutting off any route of escape. Low growls rumbled from their chests. Wolves were sacred to the drüskelle. Maybe they'd sensed her purpose or maybe they sensed a nice juicy meal.

"Just go," she said in Fjerdan. "We don't want to hurt you."

Matthias had been forced to fight wolves during his stay at Hellgate. Djel had a strange sense of humor. Aeolian reached for her knives. Pope wasn't a soldier or a fighter, and he didn't speak much and kept mostly to himself but in a situation like this he slowly pulled a knife out and armed himself.

Two wolves leapt. One attacked Pope and the other Aeolian, she was quick enough to slit the animal throat in a clean cut. The wolf yelped and landed in the snow, motionless. The sound broke her heart. At least he had a clean death. In the end, maybe that was all anyone could hope for.

She wanted to help Pope, who seemed to be struggling with the knife but the other wolves were closing in already. There was something odd about the way they moved. Their eyes glowed almost orange and they hunched and twitched as if animated by something more than hunger. What was wrong with them? There was no time to think.

They lunged. Aeolian threw her knives but this time her aim was less sure. One wolf fell, but the other pounced, landing on her with a weight that sent her tumbling into the snow. Its jaws closed over her forearm, pain lancing through her. The wolf stank of something strange. She screamed.

Aeolian heard a loud snarl and knew she was about to die. She'd brought Pope to his death as well, she felt immense guilt. Then, in a blur, something smashed into the body of the wolf, freeing her from its weight. She rolled, clutching her bleeding arm to her chest, gasping for air.

She plunged her arm into the snow, trying to get the wound clean. Her body started to shake. It was as if the wolf's bite had carried poison. She felt a heart-stopping rush go through her. Pope, was still fighting the wolf.

Her head began to spin. No, no, no she'll not pass out, she cannot pass out or she'd be good as dead. She pressed snow to her cheeks, trembling, trying to clear her thoughts, but when she opened her eyes, she wondered if the poison had fractured her mind.

At a distance two wolves were fighting in the snow—one gray, the other white and far larger. They rolled, and the white wolf clamped its jaws over the throat of the gray but did not bite down. At last, the gray slumped and whimpered. The white wolf released its hold and the smaller wolf recoiled, slinking away, tail tucked between its haunches.

The white wolf turned on Aeolian, blood on its muzzle. The animal was huge and rangy, but it didn't twist or shake the way the grays had. Something had been infecting them, something that had gotten into Aeolian's bloodstream, but this creature moved with the natural, unerring grace of wild things.

The white wolf stalked toward her. Aeolian pushed up onto her knees, reaching for her knives. Then she saw the scar that ran along its yellow eye. "Trassel?"

The wolf's ears twitched. Matthias' wolf? It couldn't be. Had Trassel come because the wolf had a feeling, someone had come for him at last.

"Trassel," she said gently. The wolf cocked his big head to the side.

Aeolian heard hoofbeats. Before she could fathom what was happening, a guy rode into the clearing on a spotless white horse like a brave young Prince from the fairytale books she'd read.

"Get back!" The young Fjerdan cried, galloping his horse between Aeolian and the white wolf as he raised his rifle.

Trassel backed away, snarling.

"No!" Aeolian screamed. She hurled a big cone at the guy, striking his shoulder. The rifle shot went wide. "Run!" Aeolian yelled at Trassel in Fjerdan. The wolf snapped his jaws as if in argument.

"Djel commenden!" Aeolian shouted. Drüskelle words. Trassel huffed once, then turned and loped into the storm, giving her a last betrayed look as if he couldn't believe she'd ask him to abandon a fight.

"What are you doing?" the guy demanded in utter disbelief.

Aeolian's jaws ticked. Matthias' wolf, his troublemaker, his Trassel had somehow found his way to her, and this blundering podge had driven him off. She seized the guy's leg and yanked him from the saddle.

"Hey!" He tried to shove Aeolian away, clearly surprised by her strength. But Aeolian had been trained as a warrior. She might not be built like a Fjerdan soldier, but she was plenty strong.

"You scared him away!" She growled.

"That was a wolf," he said in confusion. "You know that, right? He already bit you once. Just because he follows some of your commands__"

"He didn't bite me, you ass. It was the other wolf!" Aeolian said

"The other...are you out of your mind? And how do you know drüskelle commands anyway?" He said.

She hold back her tears. She might never see Trassel again. What if Matthias had sent him to her? Called him here to help her?

"You had no right!" She spat.

"I didn't mean to__" he mumbled.

Pope appeared panting and covered in blood, he was hurt. "What happened?" He asked in Kerch because he didn't understand Fjerdan.

"Because of him, Trass ran away." Aeolian responded.

"You mean he was here?" Pope asked.

"Trass?" The guy spoke in perfect Kerch. "You know that wolf."

Aeolian didn't respond, but wondered how the Fjerdan knew the language. Fjerdans mostly spoke their native mother tongue and nothing else.

The young Fjerdan shrugged. "None of it will matter if we die out here. There's a hunting lodge not far from here."

Aeolian didn't know who the hell this guy was and why was he even trying to help them but he was right, they'd die out here in the cold if they didn't act soon and Pope was bleeding, he needed aid. So they let him ride the horse as Aeolian and the Fjerdan walked besides him. They switched to Kerch, the common language they all understood.

"You can be whipped for using those commands, you know," he said. "Djel commenden. That's considered blasphemy if a drüskelle isn't speaking."

"I'll say extra prayers tonight." Aeolian rolled her eyes. She knew how entrenched the Fjerdans were.

"How do you even know those commands?" He asked skeptically.

"A friend of mine served in the ranks." She lied.

"What's his name?" He was curious.

Aeolian thought back to the fight at the Ice Court. "Lars. He passed away."

"Lars," he gasped. "He was a good man."

A good man my foot. He had closed a whip over her friends and put them on their knees before Kaz Brekker had come calling. She thought grimly.

As the horse halted, they helped Pope down and lead the horse to a sheltered space beside the lodge.

"Looks like we aren't the only ones who had this idea," Aeolian said.

There were lights in the windows of the little lodge, and they could hear loud voices from within.

"There are probably men inside who came to wait out the storm. We won't be safe here." The young Fjerdan said.

Aeolian squinted, "you mean I won't be safe?"

"We should leave," Pope said pressing his wound.

Aeolian knew that if they go back, they'd all probably die—Pope being the first, she can't do that to him after all he's in this chaos cos of her.

The door to the shelter flew open, a man with a gun silhouetted against the light. "Who's out there?"

Before they could stop her, Aeolian climbed the steps and smiled sweetly at the big man as the guys trailed her. "Thank Djel we've found shelter for the night." She glanced over his shoulder into the lodge. The room was crowded with huge Fjerdan men, a dozen at least, all gathered around a fire holding enormous mugs filled with liquor.

Aeolian felt tension spike through her. This was a moment when she would have been glad to see drüskelle, who didn't drink and who were kept to a strict code regarding women. There was nothing to do but brazen it out.

"And among gentlemen to protect us!" She continued.

"Who are you?" the man said suspiciously.

Aeolian pushed past him as if she owned the place. "I'm Jia and this is my husband Andres," she gestured at the Fjerdan guy. "And that is our friend Harry, we've been attacked by grey wolves in the storm."

The guys shuffled inside awkwardly not knowing what game Aeolian was playing, as she met the stares of the men with a smile. "I knew Djel would guide our way, Andres. Surely your father will have a healthy reward in store for all of these fine fellows."

For a moment, the guy looked confused. But then his face cleared. "Yes! Yes, indeed! My father is most generous when it comes to the safety of me and my beloved."

"Who's your father son?" A bearded man asked.

"Lennart Bjord." He mentioned.

"Lennart Bjord?" the bearded man repeated. "He towers above all the businessmen in Overüt."

Now the men were beaming and they'd offered their seats next to fire for them, as Aeolian and the Fjerdan guy warmed themselves up. One of the men helped Pope with his wounds. Aeolian had kept her wound covered, she didn't want anyone else to see it.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever met." The guy looked at her.

Because you're in Fjerda and there's no right for women out here, she thought grimly. But she said. "The ice might have gotten inside my head, I've never done anything like this before." More lies, maybe she came to Fjerda to lie.

And Aeolian don't enter a fight, she can't win. She was injured and even though in pink health, she knew she couldn't take them all. Pope wasn't a fighter and this mysterious Fjerdan saviour of theirs. She didn't know what he was capable of but three teenagers against a dozen huge Fjerdan men, they might not stand a chance.

He offered his hand, "I'm Rafe."

She shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Bo."

Aeolian had told countless lies this night, but somehow it felt wrong to give this guy a false name. Rafe stood as tall as Jesper, he was well formed with blonde hair and blue eyes. He looks like a painting, she thought, a Saint wrought in gold leaf on the walls of a church, born to wield a sword of fire.

"You should rest," Rafe said. "I'll keep watch. You'll be safe."

And Aeolian didn't know why, but she believed him.

May 11. 2022

Hey guys, ever since I've read about Trassel the white wolf in Crooked Kingdom, I really wanted to write more about him since my favourite animal are wolves :) and I even wanted to write more about Matthias and his final resting place because he holds a special place in my heart, in short, they all do :) but Matthias' death was unexpected and till date, it bugs me that he left too soon :(

When I first started publishing this book, I never thought I'd include Matthias or Trassel but with time I decided, I should and I'm glad that I did :) I hope ya'll are too.

Jonathan Daviss as Pope.

Drew Starkey as Rafe.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

🎵🎵🎵

In your eyes, there's a heavy blue
One to love and one to lose
Sweet divine, a heavy truth
Water or wine, don't make me choose
I wanna feel the way that we did that summer night, night
Drunk on a feeling, alone with the stars in the sky
I've been running through the jungle
I've been running with the wolves
To get to you, to get to you
I've been down the darkest alleys
Saw the dark side of the moon
To get to you, to get to you
I've looked for love in every stranger
Took too much to ease the anger
All for you, yeah, all for you
I've been running through the jungle
I've been crying with the wolves
To get to you, to get to you, to get to you
Your fingertips trace my skin
To places I have never been
Blindly, I am following
Break down these walls and come on in
I wanna feel the way that we did that summer night, night
Drunk on a feeling, alone with the stars in the sky
I've been running through the jungle
I've been running with the wolves
To get to you, to get to you
I've been down the darkest alleys
Saw the dark side of the moon
To get to you, to get to you
I've looked for love in every stranger
Took too much to ease the anger
All for you, yeah, all for you
I've been running through the jungle
I've been crying with the wolves
To get to you, to get to you, to get to you
I've been running through the jungle
I've been running with the wolves
To get to you, to get to you
I've been down the darkest alleys
Saw the dark side of the moon
To get to you, to get to you
I've looked for love in every stranger
Took too much to ease the anger
All for you, yeah, all for you
I've been running through the jungle
I've been crying with the wolves
To get to you, to get to you, to get to you

🎵🎵🎵