✂You stride not into ♭attle ♭ut a snare \ of guile and strife a neatly woven net \ Lust's mistress lifts her sword into the air, and ♭aying for your ♭lood her pack does set. So dance a ring around o♭livion, await a sign from night's own melody, catch sight of it, make haste, and ♭egone—
Kult: +15
Kull: +5
Total: 20
Ratio: 3.00