They whispered that he was alone because he had to be,
that some creatures are too wild to stay,
too restless to belong.

But the wolf remembers…
the warmth of the fire,
the weight of a world that once welcomed him.
And he knows now: it wasn’t his wildness they feared,
but the way he saw through the shadows.

The wolf knows better.
The howl was never a warning,
never a call for chaos—
but a song for the lost,
a promise that no one walks alone.

So he left them in their silence,
turned his voice to the moon,
where the lonely still listen,
where the echoes do not twist—
but repeat the truth,
for those ready to hear it.