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I am *this* close to finishing my essays and I also found out some good news that one of the essays is due a day later than I thought :')


Now if only I didn't have to say farewell to my gaming PC tomorrow as I return to uni... it's going to be a long 2 months
 
It actually is a quite far spread folk myth throughout Europe - mostly in the Northern-ish and Western-ish parts, I think.

The Wild Hunt of the games has much in common with the Celtic traditions.
Yeats, "The Hosting of the Sidhe" (1899)
The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away:
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,
Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,
Our breasts are heaving our eyes are agleam,
Our arms are waving our lips are apart;
And if any gaze on our rushing band,
We come between him and the deed of his hand,
We come between him and the hope of his heart.
The host is rushing 'twixt night and day,
And where is there hope or deed as fair?
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away.
 
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Round our end Old Grim is said to lead the Hunt, and a host of Barghests to run in it, also seems keen to abduct bridegrooms for some reason. Don't know whether Old Grim is Odin/Wotan or Satan, or what the meaning of the Hunt is, but it seems to be always linked with the Black Dog that haunts Europe Shuck/Shagga/Padfoot or whatever name it bears.
 
Round our end Old Grim is said to lead the Hunt, and a host of Barghests to run in it, also seems keen to abduct bridegrooms for some reason. Don't know whether Old Grim is Odin/Wotan or Satan, or what the meaning of the Hunt is, but it seems to be always linked with the Black Dog that haunts Europe Shuck/Shagga/Padfoot or whatever name it bears.

Made me think of this:

 
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