A poem trying to depict werewolves. Based on fantasy novel depictions.
The full moon calls me
as a creature of the night.
I’m not bound, freely running through the forest.
Mortals think I crave destruction.
I protect humans from the deadly bite
and bring warmth.
My claws may seem like daggers,
but they can also be shields
to those I guard.
The cold ones, I bring down
with the help of my pack.
We protect our town.
The silvery goddess grants us mates.
When marked, our souls are bound.
From the Alpha and Luna
to the smallest pups.
We are quite the pack,
which makes us quite the family.