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The dream of ones solitude, and journey. |
| Darkness reaches upon the horizon, not a hint of day left to see. The moon and stars begin to linger. The silence so erie, you start to shiver. A howl breaks the silence, echoing in the night. The wolf of the night, rises for dinner. He's on the hunt , for any entree that peaks interest. The wind blows slightly , rustiling his grey fur. Back to the den , for cold is not his friend. Daylight cracks, the birds begin to sing. It's a new time and morning begins. The wolf goes back to the den, waiting for the sun to end. |