draco0hawk

Running through the woods, the dark woods. An owl hoots, a mouse scurries, The creek gurgles, and an elk grazes. My pack brothers call under the light of the golden moon. Gone are the days when the forest was ours. The tail-less ones have invaded, stealing, killing. Night is the time we can roam. They are afraid of the night, and we of them. They believe we ill for fun, for pleasure, When they are the ones who do this crime. If not for us, the weak would survive, And take food from the strong. The hunters are killing the food that is rightfully ours. They have forced us to return to our homeland, To take their sheep and cattle

Look into a wolf's eyes and you will see... The golden soul of a misunderstood creature. A creature we have doomed, Not for what it is, but for what we have deliberately and mistakenly preceived it to be... The epitome of a savage ruthless killer... Which is actually no more than a reflected image of ourselves. This creature is mischievous, but it is his way of showing a sense of humor. What we don't see is that this creature is as gentle and graceful as the wind. He loves and respects the human race, but it never seems to be returned. When I look into his beautiful, golden eyes, I see age-old intelligence; When others see him, they