I held the calm all day—
the small storms,
the glances,
the tiny cuts that never bleed
but still bruise the mind.
I swallowed the chaos,
carried the silence,
did the work no one sees
and kept the peace no one thanks.
But then
one careless word—
useless—
and something ancient inside me
opened its eyes.
Not rage.
Not madness.
Fenris.
The wolf who guards the borders of my soul.
He didn’t howl.
He didn’t bite.
He simply stood,
warm breath against my ribs,
and said:
“No more.”
And I spoke with his voice—
steady,
cold,
clear as steel:
If you want me here, say it.
If not, I walk.
That was not anger.
That was truth with teeth.
A boundary carved in bone.
A reminder that even the gentlest man
is still a wolf
when pushed too far.
Now the storm is quiet.
Fenris lies down again.
And I remain—
not broken,
not ashamed,
but proud
that when I needed him,
the wolf inside
didn’t fail me.
Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 4:26 PM UTC
I held the calm all day—
the small storms,
the glances,
the tiny cuts that never bleed
but still bruise the mind.
I swallowed the chaos,
carried the silence,
did the work no one sees
and kept the peace no one thanks.
But then
one careless word—
useless—
and something ancient inside me
opened its eyes.
Not rage.
Not madness.
Fenris.
The wolf who guards the borders of my soul.
He didn’t howl.
He didn’t bite.
He simply stood,
warm breath against my ribs,
and said:
“No more.”
And I spoke with his voice—
steady,
cold,
clear as steel:
If you want me here, say it.
If not, I walk.
That was not anger.
That was truth with teeth.
A boundary carved in bone.
A reminder that even the gentlest man
is still a wolf
when pushed too far.
Now the storm is quiet.
Fenris lies down again.
And I remain—
not broken,
not ashamed,
but proud
that when I needed him,
the wolf inside
didn’t fail me.
A moment of truth — the boundary between calm and fire, and the wolf inside that only wakes when pushed too far.
