The Young Wolves

It's been a good day for the pack. I shake my white fur and trot to my resting spot.

Back in the cave, the brown one brushes against me. A moment’s blink is filled with his trace and his stare.

In the corner of his eye
There's a glint of danger

There's pride
Saying "you're safe over there, and I'm over here."    

Curled up 
My eyes rest on his.
Is that so? 



Another day, full and saturated.

The brown one locks my eyes
Growling almost unnoticeably
A long slow growl.
This is not his place. 

I snarl my teeth.

He doesn't know who he's challenging.
I don't know who I'm challenging.
Neither is going to back down.

As I draw close, eyes locked
I sense his complex trace
He reminds me of a hunger the pack can't satisfy.



Another day of full bellies and yet

I grow hungry for the roam, the hunt, the kill
Hungry to win
To catch a hare 
Shake it around
and dig my teeth into its warm pulsing blood.

The brown one is asleep, one leg twitching.



Another night, spoils are as plenty as our hunger for the challenge

Under a full moon
We slowly circle each other
Halt
Legs like springs
Halt

Explode into movement
And run, run, and run

Tackle
Tumble
Flashes of brown fur and white
Flashes of teeth and eyes and grass and rocks
Tense squeaks and muffled barks
Every muscle fiber is on fire
burning everything. 

There is no end, there is only time 

As the moon sets
We pant in the grass, far away from the pack
Lick our wounds
And declare our victory 

AH ROOOOOOOO

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