He's the wolf that followed
the trail of blood. He followed
the drops on the white forest
floor. The cuts were deep and
wounds created a river of red.
No life existed in the water. The
smell of blood was left on my
car seat. And the little wolf
seemed to be following me.
To heal the scars. To howl with
grief at the moon. To call for
help. The little wolf was the
only living soul who had
mercy left. The only soul that
came to rescue me. That
little wolf knew the meaning
of loyalty* ~