Drafts: "Last, Loyal Wolf":

Draft 1:

Wolf wheeling down chasm,

head-spinning, flailing, bash!

Cascading stomach,

Acid-inducing nausea,

By searing, screaming flesh.

Out comes the blood to soil,

Blood and acid boil out,

From reeling body and mouth,

The deceit and broken words.

Wolf stares shock at his mate,

Mercilessly pierced,

Stabbed with sword and arrowhead,

Ravaged by the dogs of war,

Laid down to waste and ruin,

By kin and clan alike,

To cold storm that burned,

Her tears told the truth of her lies,

His tears told the truth of his heart,

Crying howls echoing to deaf ears,

She turned tail and ran,

Leaving none among her wake.

None that she knew, except someone new.

So cold. Just him. Alone.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

But he, not alone, heard the Master.

Get up. Fight on. Outlast the cold.

May I wait for end to come, Spirit?

Get up. Brush off. Stay firm,

Onward, follow along,

Young Prince by My decree.

To where and why, Spirit?

To beyond and for your kin.

Must it be so, be so cold?

Dear Prince, not so, embrace me.

At last, he rose, with help,

Through grit teeth and stinging,

Tears that belayed the journey,

While his blaze returned.

Just a little further,

Young Prince don’t fret.

Sweet Prince be strong.

Outlast, as loyal wolf.