The wolfs breakfast
By andrew-evans
Fri, 11 Dec 2009
- 601 reads
The Autum mist around
his ankles
and the chill
down his back,
walking carefully
through the leaf litter,
making sure not to
announce himself,
he can smell her
in the air
her smell the sweatest
he has ever smelt,
and then he cranes his neck
to the air,
and howls to announce his attack
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