The next was Anikoh, who wept in deep sorrow,
Successor to her sister, burdens she would soon borrow,
Bellowing for her lost babes, their pain she'd take,
Until the Wood's embrace did bind to unmake.

Then came Nico'a, the eldest brother dear,
Stealing away his brothers, evading all that came near,
He carried them from the forest's unrelenting might,
Into the depths of the moonless night.

And Poor Nico'to, frightened, crying for his twin,
Carried away by his brother's kin,
Lost in the darkness, into the shadow's dread,
His voice fading as his cries soon spread.

At last, Kah Nico, watching her final kin fall,
How she would regret her wicked conjury's call,
She drowned her enemies in a torrent of sin,
Thus inflicting their woodsin, the wretched curse from within.

But the clan bore witness and favored her fight,
Defied the Pact in the dead of night,
Her greatest regret, the Greenwrath's cruel aim,
Claimed kith and kin and left none to remain.

Her children inherited the sins of her hand,
A legacy of darkness, a curse on the land,
It did not stop until all were laid low,
By the Wood's dark fury, and its relentless final blow:

Their names lost; once whispered in shadows deep,
As the Wood's dark secrets forever keep.
Yet twin souls remain, their debt paid — so let it be,
Cursed to forge their own path, asa sa fe.