The Pup, The Learner, My Son

By Aljan Darkmoon 2008

 

He had the eyes like the blue sky

Young he was, always filled with energy

Playfully, he would always tug at our fur and tails

If his muscles were like mine at that age, my mate and I wouldn’t have fur

 

He was always attentive

Always listening, always watching, always learning

He tricked a hare at its own game during his first hunt

I knew he would grow to become a son to be proud of

 

His brothers and sisters respect him for who he is

He is kind and modest

He rarely uses anger as a tool and uses alternatives in problems

Though a young wolf, he is my son and I am proud of him

 

Many years have passed, and my mate and I are old and wary

My sons and daughters have moved on

Forming packs of their own or joining others

Only a few stay to remain at our side

 

Then one night

A familiar padded foot enters the den

The scent of one of my blood fills my heart with joy and happiness

My mate and I rush to gather our feet but he comes to us

 

Our son has come home

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2008

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