Not the clear winter's sky nor the moon's light, may challenge the infinite elegance of their lifes, while they rest in tranquil morning mists so bright, their ongoing fate drives them to survive. Their struggle in the wilderness to be free. The wolve's eye to be aware of worlds that I can't see. By the cover of night,you sing your song to the moon. Knowing shortly that morning will be there soon.
Most people think,it's just a howl and a cry.
To me, it's just beautiful music that you sing to the sky. Loyality to your pack,is to the end. It's just for the food and not for the thrill. You go out with the pack and hunt like men. Always returning by morning to your den.