Those snow prints mark you
Like a howl at the pining moon
Crying at your beckoning calls,
Family and loyalty runs deep
With wilderness in the night.

You find spaces in hollow pine
Whilst stood on boulders,
Your cry screeches through
Descending moons and bark,
The most gentle of heart
But viciously snarls and bites.

Coat as thick as the ground you tread,
Scratching at your fur as snow flakes fall
Shaking like the leaves
in cool breeze beneath your feet,
Blending into snow but only able
To see pearl smoky quartz eyes.