Our minds our one, we run in line,
Her pelt and his pelt brushing mine.
In our tight formation, we run,
run towards the rising sun.
We are chasing a moose, strong and proud.
we know we can bring it down.
With elegance and grace,
some pick up the pace, and nip at its legs.
It shakes its head, and rounds the bend,
but our outflankers have their speed to lend.
While hang back, we don`t rush,
as they give it a final push.
It falls down, and we all gather round,
as our leader comes over and lays on the ground.
He stares into the great beast`s eyes,
and thanks it for giving its life.