The moon calls to the she wolf like a mother calls to her child,she runs through the woods with bare feet feeling the dart between her toes,the wind rushing through her long brown hair,the blood rusing in her vains.
When she howls at the radiant moon, to man's ear it's just howling...but to the she wolf she is singing. So all through the night she runs in the forest all night long until the morning comes as the earth awakens, all but one the she wolf sleeps on the cold wet floor, dreaming of the next time she will sing to the full moon once again.
