Midnight Manor · Signature Ride

The Wraith Migration

Wind's dropped, mist's rising, moon coming up over the moor. Hold on to your hats, my dears — the old herd is running tonight. We fly the moors, the battlefield, the lantern cemetery, the roofless chapel choir, the drowning-lake, and home to the Manor at last. She only rides once a night.

Best with sound on.