The Hunt

A howl resounds through the mist

My pulse begins to quicken

Another howl to my left

The pack has begun to hunt

My feet begin to move

Faster and faster I run

They come into my sight

Pounce bite blood crack it's over

The smell and taste of blood

Growling as the feast begins

The pack begins to leave

The moon begins to go down

One last howl for the night

The soft sound of padding paws

Golden eyes change to plain brown

The wind against my bare skin

I await the next full moon

And the hunt it always brings