Excerpt
“My Dear, find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover. -Falsely yours”
Charles Bukowski
A lone wolf doesn’t tread paths its ilk leaves; it makes its own footprints in the snow. Most of its kind lives in packs, but it is an army in itself. As quiet as it is fierce, it hones its own skills in the wild - building its lair, hunting its prey, sharpening its claws and facing its predators – no hurdle too big to cross in its passionate pursuit of a quest.
It loves with similar ferocity too, a loyal protector and provider when it crosses paths with its mate for life – a true soulmate.
Above all, however, it is a survivor. When the conditions get harsh, it will do what it has to, to make it out alive.
No, a lone wolf would not go down without a fight.
