The Hunt

Sometimes when a wolf bites you,  you start to bleed out until there’s no blood left to give;

The life drains from your body and you pass on to another world.

Other times, the bite changes you. You become a wolf, yourself, a werewolf of sorts if you would.

I believe the choice is ours, whether we become a corpse or a blood hungry wolf.

When you’re hunted down by the predator and he takes a bite out of you, you can either give in and let him win, or you can become stronger than he ever could be.

I know we have a choice in the matter because not so long ago I made it, myself.

Now my claws are sharp, my teeth bared but I’m not something to be afraid of.

The hunted, simply, became a hunter, and I’m hunting down my prey.

I’m a she wolf.