The Hurting Moon


In bleak


did I find the real me,

uncovered the truth.

Beneath a grinning moon

that transgressed surreal

to border on bizzare,

bathed in the light celestial,

I turned to the other side.

Cold fire and silver slivers;

the pain refreshed, not harmed.

The hurting moon,

an old wive’s tale;

a feral beginning,

who knew, who could say,

as I howled at the midnight

taken by ebon delights.



Finally me.

The Wolf Among Us: Golden.


The lifespan of wolves made it difficult for Luna. No sooner would she grow attached to one than nature would take it from her. She never really settled with the pack.

I did my best for my daughter, acted as I thought a father should, but my turning presented problems. I would never have hurt her, I knew that now, but she couldn’t bear to see my pain. For her part, Luna never became a wolf. Even when she came of age, she did not make the change. It drove her away and almost destroyed me.

When the last of the pack did not return, trapped and killed by man, I set out to find my daughter. There was nothing left for me in the wilderness, only memories.

Pretending to be normal was the hardest part. I ingratiated myself into every bar in every town, but nobody knew of the girl with the golden hair. Until one long summer, that was.

I left the frontier behind and headed for the ocean. I had a hunch, but nothing definite. Mankind faded away to memory as the wild encompassed all. There in nature’s untrampled perfection, I allowed the wolf to remain for speed and endurance. The miles hurtled by. That was my undoing.

The shot came from nowhere; the bullet struck true. The man that was king fell as the sun did set, and life ebbed away in crimson rivulets. My hunter approached with caution, golden hair billowing in the north wind. It was Luna, of course, she’d tracked me all along until sure we were alone.

She said she did it for her momma, and for me. We belonged together in heaven, not apart in hell. Luna held me tight, wouldn’t leave me alone, her hair burning beneath the sunset. She was so beautiful, so alive, so wolf.

My final breath was as a man. My final sight that of a majestic, golden wolf running off into a fiery future. It might have been Luna, or it might have a god, either way, she couldn’t have looked more alive.

Part One: here

Part Two: here

The Wolf Among Us: Luna.


Winter hit with one swift, remorseless stroke. Rock and meadow gave way to an ocean of snow that undulated in the fierce north winds. 

The pack proved restless around their new alpha. I had become a king amongst wolves without raising a paw. It was not a title I’d asked for nor savoured. But, if truth be told, those of the lupine hearts were not evil and I grew to admire them in some animalistic fashion. They showed me more kindness than society ever had. I would sit and stare at mountain ranges I did not know nor welcome and wait for my fur-clad army to return with food. Thus, we remained for several weeks the wolves and me.

I felt the change before the moon rose. Unlike my first mindless experience of half-man, half-wolf, I sensed every nuance of the wild as it happened. It was a tugging that started with my soul and ended somewhere behind my eyes. In an extravagant burst of snarling self, I emerged from my metamorphosis as the moon appeared in a starburst sky; I loved it. Freedom came to me in the form of scent and sound, wind and snow, and I lapped up every second. I knew everything in those moments of both man and beast, nothing was forbidden to the king of the wolves. Until my mind slipped back to home, and then grief struck me to the core.

Perhaps it was the golden lock tied about my neck that twisted free in the wind to flap loose before my eyes? Perhaps not? Either way, all that I’d done returned in a crimson dream. I looked back to those of the inclined muzzles and deferential stances and bid them farewell. There were no words, but they knew.

Leaving the man I was behind, I ran. Like a shooting star of silver and grey, I departed. The wolf took a hold, senses attuned to winter nights leading the way, and I went where my furred legs bid.

I’d run for forever when I found the tracks. Two sets of footprints in the snow: humans. The hunger took me then, as I raced across the wilderness in search of my prey. I found them, too. 

They were huddled against the cold beneath a sycamore’s bough, one small, the other smaller still. I snarled; they looked wide-eyed and fearful. But fangs were soon withdrawn. The wisps of gold gave them away. There were only two such souls in the land.

I would have told them if I could how I’d thought them dead and I their destroyer. I would have thanked them for their searching if I could. But I couldn’t. Instead, I prowled right up to them and lowered my head allowing the golden lock to fall to the porcelain snow. My wife knew; my daughter did not. With the last of her strength, she placed the child, our child, Luna, on my back and slipped into the sleep of eternity. I wished I could have buried her there, but had no control over the change at that time.

We left her where she lay and ran whilst still I could. There was only one place for the daughter of a wolf king. The pack called us home.

Part 1 here: The Wolf Among Us.

Full Moon Rising

 Chalk white, she observes
 The furred ones calling to her
 So sad, so mournful
 In swathes of midnight
 They seek only to exist
 As their time is short
 By luna cycle
 Such lonesome lives are governed
 Beautifully lured
 In melancholy
 They watch the full moon rising
 In despair they howl

I Am Wolf

 There is no wind, all is still below the wild moon. I hunt; we hunt, individuals bathed in silver light, metallic colouring seeking metallic tang. Working as one to lessen the hardship of the Alaskan wilderness, we persevere.
Winter has been hard. Deep snows have tested us, and found a few wanting. Only the strong have survived, the bondings of the group tightened. We have a new leader now: one that was not born wolf; me.
There can be only one alpha, one supreme lord of the pack, tooth and claw has made that choice. Now, as I stand in regal monochrome nothing but an outline to those we seek, I consider. I still poses thought, I do not know for how long?
I face the north wind and taste the fear of others, I muse at what it was to be human if I have made the right choice: but not for long. I am wolf forevermore.

A Lycan Night

Lycan Night image

Slowly, slowly, moving on
I follow the lead of my venting breath
A chill
The hairs on my neck stand on end
Every crack of twig
Every whoosh of wind
And every second is an eternity

Moon strays from behind cloud
Illuminating a darkling wood
A call. My blood freezes
I am frozen
I want to move
But only my ears seem to work
They are listening for what is to come

The call again
It is that of a broken soul
I empathise
I cannot run. I cannot look
Fear has taken me
I grip at the tree I cower behind
There is no reassurance in return

A low, deep, growl. Closing steps
Steaming, warm, breath
Drool on my neck
I close my eyes
And take my final breath
Death has found me

The Itch

Wolf Eyes Edit

As the clouds slide past a silver orb

I feel an itch

A nagging, persistent, annoyance
Pinpricks throughout my body
Acupuncture to my soul
I am on fire
Never have I felt such pain
It radiates out like a supernova
And I howl in ecstasy
I like it
No, I love it
I need it
My fingernails vibrate
Slash at my clothing
My teeth elongate
Snarl at the wind
My body contorts
A readying hunter
My mind regresses
My humanity lacerated
I feel an itch
Will you help me scratch it?


I hear the clock strike two 

Only another five hours until morning

The moon is high and illuminates the room in spectral light

It is the same every month

How I miss you so

A rustling from the garden heralds the return of a fox

I envy him his freedom

To run in the night wild and free without constraint or master

Then silence

It is though the world freezes

The universe watches on impassively

And I hear it

The long howl of pain

The cry of what was once mine but now is lost

I ponder the whys and ifs as I do every full moon

Will she still remember me

Will she still care

Will she return

The clock ticks on 

My own malaise deepens

Whilst my love runs free

Only another few hours until morning

I’ll get the kettle on just in case