Language of the Wolves

By KingAhura Werewolf

In the night their ghostly howls ring through the winter air like wind through a tunnel. I lay in my bed listening to the forgotten children of the night as the run through the woods.

Their breath coming out in steam as it rings around their heads. The are the unknown, the are the ghosts of the night they are wolves. I listen to their haunting wails in the night and I wish I could understand them to know the love of the pack. As I drift to sleep my dreams are engulfed in a torrent of visions. I am a wolf my hands and feet are paws, my body is covered in fur. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I notice other dark figures standing around me. They emerge out of the darkness they are my brothers of the winter night.

Our leader howls and we do the same, I follow them my paws crushing in the winter snow. I wake up and wonder if it was a dream and I’d like to think not but somewhere out there my wolf spirit is running free and safe from those who would send us to our demise.

I fall back to sleep and I am transported back to the wintry night and back to my brothers the unknown children of the night.

The End