"The dark powers of hell spat up a terrible curse and you have seen it working. By day, Isabeau is the beatiful bird you brought to me. And by night, as you already guessed, the voice of the wolf that we hear is the cry of Navarre. Poor dumb creatures. with no memory of the half life of their existence, never touching, in the flesh. Only the anguish of a split second at sunrise and sunset. When they can almost touch... but not.

Always together.... eternally apart."

Ladyhawke