Moonlight

The wind carries their howls. It carries their bloodlust and intent.

They are hunting us, even as we hunt them.

Though they are the only pray we do not eat; such flesh as theirs must never pass our throats. We hunt them purely for survival.

They hunt us for sport, for slaughter and dark joy; a need for torn flesh in their teeth, blood spilt in moonlight.

They are stronger, but we are cunning. We are wolf.

They have lost nature’s subtlety, there is too much of man in them; too much of the men they were, in the daylight.

– John Xero - Xeroverse: 101 Visit Missing Pieces too.

3 comments:

  1. And they come for us and our blood turns to ice and we wait....fear clawing at our throats...visions of death dance in our heads.
    (just had to throw this in)
    Hugs
    SueAnn

    ReplyDelete
  2. And I thought this couldn't get any better... sometimes it's awesome to be wrong.

    ReplyDelete
  3. And they come for us and our blood turns to ice and we wait....fear clawing at our throats...visions of death dance in our heads.
    (just had to throw this in)
    Hugs
    SueAnn

    ReplyDelete