Snow fall is heavy this year
in the mountainous forest range
the temps are heavy with a bitter cold
but i am not one to worry about this
as my fur ruffles around my neck,
a gust of wind brushes at it.

My pups and mate are asleep
in the safety and warmth of our den.
Other creatures know
never to venture within a mile
or they will certainly face this
one's insatiable bloodlust and wrath.
But for now, all is well.
The only discernable sound is the wind,
howling mercilessly in the trees.

I begin my hunt.

Time passes as the afternoon sun turns
into sunset, casting the land in the red colors
of the life-giving orb of warmth in the sky.
I was scavenging for any specks of debris
or food any humans had left behind at a distant
camping ground.
No luck. No humans, either. Pity.

Then i happen upon a large oak.
A large oak with two scurrying dots
darting around its bark.
They will come to ground soon.
They will not see me until I'm right on top of them.

In my jaw there are two squirrels,
for the mate and pup.
They will enjoy these morsels.
I will spend my time playing
with my offspring and we will explore
the land beyond our den together.

My mate wants another baby. Soon.
I am only happy to oblige her tonight!
it is good to be a provider.
To be a mate.
To be hunter. A feared killer.
A prowler of the night.
A wolf.

.

because i forgot to add it into the end of the poem:

comments encouraged and appreciated.....duh!

"Other creatures know
never to venture within a mile
or they will certainly face this
one's insatiable bloodlust and wrath."

My favorite part.

Loved it

I've always felt kind of an odd kinship with wolves. Dogs too. Cats are cool, but I'm allergic, so...*shrug

Thanks, 2K!