Her every being exists in a world of dreams which cannot be defined by us. But, we can only imagine.
She has very sharp senses. She sniffs the scent of the earth and her eyes are illumined at dark.
She passes through the forest. Standing proud against the darkness, her spirit is unbroken.
She is young at heart, and old with drought. She is strong and she's daring without a doubt.
Her songs are as a journey, and frolic in the breeze. There is prowess and a valor in her lavished synchrony.
Her flute will share her story, in the sound of lonely larks, of loss, rebirth, of drifting sands, and sweet hours.
She honors the pack with respect, where unison is found, with all things wild, whether large or small.
She cares for the pack. She loves the pack. She protects the pack. She fights and hunts for the pack.
She'll be a leader if she must. Her every element is scattered on the grass, as she prowls. Who is she?
This wonderful creature dances to the songs of the night and she howls at the moon. She is a wolf.
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