This one is kind of a story but a poem too so IDK i guess i'll put in both
My wolf is larger than most with brad sholders and a massive chest. his body bloks out the sky to my eyes. his fur is that of amber which are dieing. the warmth from his body is like a wild fire and i am dry wood. his biesepts are that of iron beams they hold me close to him. i can not strugle when i am in them nor do i want to.
His sea blue eyes ingulf me in their sea of fire. Always watching me, stalking me, knowing my movies before i do. With his pearching eyes that burn in to the soul. you can not movie unless he looks away. They hide things i know there is pain behind them yet i can not reach it.
He sits there like a stone wal, yet ready to strike down pry. i wonder if I will be his next pry or another
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