Hail Fenrir Hróðvitnir, Great Norse WerGod!
Glory and honour to the Son of the Wise Hag, the Son who is destruction, the Son who is what he is: Himself and Sacred Truth.
Alpha of all packs, Mighty Wolf-Shapeshifter , above all others, praised be Thou.
Father, Your rage is deep, Your power unstoppable.
You are mighty among Gods and Jötnar !
Your rending maw devour the Old, that the New may yet be born.
You are the example for us all, to learn not to be fearful of our own wrath and ferocity.
Your shadow stands near by me, powerful, beyond my understanding. I will not forget, and I will not fail.
May You watch over us , the ones who believe in You.
May Your blessings be bestoewd upon us,Your loyal kin in faith.
So do I pray.
So do I praise.
So do I hail.
May everyone realize the majesty of You.
Lord Fenrir Hróðvitnir, Great Ravager, full of rage and sadness,
may Your suffering end,
may You be free from Your chains,
may You escape from the darkness of Your cave and roam freely under the skies of the Nine Worlds like the Old Days once more.

Hail Great Wolf of Eternal Rage And Vengeance, Fenrir,
Your Battle Hate Which Can Never Be Conquered,
Your Rage Which Is Beyond All,
Lord of Anarchy And Freedom,
May You Be Free of The Chains That Bind You,
Hail Fenrir The Wolf!
May I Have Your Fierce Battle Spirit Within Me Today

Hail Great Wolf of Eternal Rage And Vengeance, Fenrir,
Your Battle Hate Which Can Never Be Conquered,
Your Rage Which Is Beyond All,
Lord of Anarchy And Freedom,
May You Be Free of The Chains That Bind You,
Hail Fenrir The Wolf!
May I Have Your Fierce Battle Spirit Within Me Today

Hail Great Wolf of Eternal Rage And Vengeance, Fenrir,
Your Battle Hate Which Can Never Be Conquered,
Your Rage Which Is Beyond All,
Lord of Anarchy And Freedom,
May You Be Free of The Chains That Bind You,
Hail Fenrir The Wolf!
May I Have Your Fierce Battle Spirit Within Me Today

Hail Loki's wolf‑son, mightiest of sorrows,
who would devour all, light and dark,
with gleaming razors and hot breath,
a never‑ending feast of spilled blood,
shining guts, torn and rent flesh
there at the threshold of madness.

Hail, child of the Witch Queen,
wildest son of the Iron Wood,
blood‑tinged, red‑eyed, pain‑driven beast
bound fast and wyrd‑wrapped in rage,
as tears roil around you in a great salt sea
there on the underside of the subconscious.

Hail to you who are chaos uncontrollable,
without compromise, without shame,
fear's ending and love's devourer,
biding your time until time's end,
silent in shadows, merciless in patience,
there at the borders of the underworld.

Hail to Fenrir, he who exists
at the terminus of the senses,
waiting, waiting for the worlds to crumble,
for the rejoicing in destruction
and the shattered spear and sword,
there at the ending of all things.