The burrow was illuminated by the soft, green luminescence of phosphorescent moss. Upon a chair fashioned from sturdy, interwoven roots, a Valkyrie sat cradling a small life wrapped in spider-silk cloth. Her melodious voice drifted through the air, singing an ancient lay of silver wings piercing through storms, filling every corner of the warm subterranean room with a soothing melody.
♫ Hush now, darling, my little Asura The Creator's voice is calling for you If the clouds refuse to leave our sky He shall tear them asunder with hands held high Mother gives you all she never knew Though the world outside is dark and cruel Fear not the shadows at the door For the Monster watches by my side forevermore ♫
