The Wolf

Darkness has fallen and the moon arises to light his way from the sky.

Gently he walks in concealment with his dark and sly little eyes.

He tiptoes through the night forest crunching dead leaves underfoot; slowly he crawls like a stealthy, clever, hunting crook.

Sniffing the ground tracking the bait, to see what luck will have him take!

Which meal is he to find today?

Sniffing the paths of many preys!

The scent of live flesh gets stronger now and he eagerly prepares his snare.

There it is, back turned from the wolf, the prey doesn’t know that his there.

Slowly the night hunter creeps behind, ready to pounce and ready to dine.

The wolves jaw snaps round the neck sharp.

Tearing it to pieces without a heart!

Triumphant with his hunt, he calls!

Barking loudly about his Trawl, calling his family to dine with him, the flesh of the victim, it pleases him.

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