The thrill of the chase
The panting of my pack mates
The pups are hungry
The lumberling falls
I arrive as it stands tall
Brown fur and long claws
Wind-Dancer falls down
A gash across her grey back
Eyes glazed and empty
As we circle in
Moon-Sprinter jumps and runs
Grabbing attention
I approach and bite
The taste of warm blood soothes
Invigorating
I feel the neck snap
The great body falling limp
We have food again
Our pups will now live
Thanks to the effort of all
Back to our warm den
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem