Before the bark, the howl lit up the night,
A shadow moving swift through frost and flame,
The forest rang with songs of primal might.
No leash, no name, no hearth to hold him tight—
Just stars above and hunger’s endless game,
Before the bark, the howl lit up the night.
His eyes, twin lanterns carved of amber light,
Knew secrets buried deep in nature’s frame;
The forest rang with songs of primal might.
By moon and blood, he learned to stalk and fight,
To lead the pack and earn his whispered fame.
Before the bark, the howl lit up the night.
Then came the fire, the scent of meat, the rite
Of trust exchanged for shelter, warm and tame.
The forest rang with songs of primal might—
Yet still he dreams of snowfields crisp and white,
Of ancient kin who never played the game.
Before the bark, the howl lit up the night.
The forest rang with songs of primal might.