I carry the wolf with me.
The mother. The protector. The leader. The one who belongs and is welcomed. The one who never abandons, who never leaves behind. Who leads from the rear and loves until it kills her. She howls to the skies and embodies the power of the lunar. Her eyes flash with the light of the nighttime; the light only trained eyes can see. She watches and waits, patience unending. Knowing. Listening. Seeing. Feeling. Her movements are lithe and her body is honed. Her spirit is strong and her touch gentle. But do not threaten those that she loves. Do not come too close. Do not hurt them. Or you will pay her price and her price is high. She will not come when you expect, nor how you expect. She will come softly at first, and then harder, and harder, taking every inch of you with her for she knows each and every piece of you. She will entice you; she will astound you; she will render you speechless and hopeless as she takes you, wholly, fully, completely. And as you are in the throes of her, she will smile with the smile only she knows how to use, and she will look to the skies and raise her voice to the moon. And in that moment all will be illuminated, all will be known. And she will leave you wanting. Always wanting.
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