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Wheels turning, the sun is high and dries the soil. Now hopes are rising in the clan. Hard hunger, their number's smaller than before. The search is coming to an end. Long winters make them strong in will and flesh. But welcome is the smell of spring. Wind whispers to the women and the men. And tells them where to lay their hearts. Gods gather, and bring fortune to us all. North rising, hear the ravens and their call. Brave thunder, draw your wealth down on this earth. Let the sun then guild the seas. Great hunter, offer guidance, give us strength. Under runes we all will dream. Seek answers, those of faith will understand. Tree of life will still grow tall. Move onward, when the time comes we will go. Rest with all those gone before. Gods gather, and bring fortune to us all. North rising, hear the ravens and their call.