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The Wolf Who Hunted the Moon

(From ch23 Act 1)

Beneath the trees and in the mud,

Between the hills where the cold wind blew,

The wolf did hunt before the morning dew.

‘Twas heaven’s light that awaited the blood.

From broken hunted hare it did flood.

One life snuffed for another who

Prowled alone, soon to hunger anew.

Its grey fur soiled, marked with blood.

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Night by night the prey of the woods was culled,

By tooth and claw, a hare he slew.

Always, for his hunger to renew.

‘Twas heaven’s light that showed the blood.

The wolf sat alone amid the mud.

Beneath the moon, silver-blue,

A silent judge who

Watched grey fur wet with blood.

Wherever he went, it followed and judged.

Whatever life he snuffed, it knew.

A dreadful pair, those two.

For the wolf hated the hunger, the blood.

One night, under the moon’s shining flood,

From the wolf all prey flew

And more than hunger grew.

Anger swelled up, unquenched by blood.

With an empty belly, the wolf succumbed.

On that night, more than howls carried through.

From dirt to tree to sky he flew.

He bared fangs at that which had no blood.

Alas, the moon had only judged

That the wolf was a wolf true

And had bit more than it could chew.

In the heavens, there was only the wolf’s blood.