Gaze.

[witchscauldron]

I turn my face towards the window, gazing at the drifting snow in the streetlight. Higher overhead, another light shines through the haze of the falling flakes - the moon's lamp is a pale ghost in the sky, near full, and calling in my blood.

It is easy to be a wolf in such moments.

-Caller of Winter Storms through Bare Branches in Moonlight, or WinterWolf, or simply Morg; as you prefer.

Comments

*breathes deeply*

[kodekitten.livejournal.com]

It puts me at peace to read this. Knowing that others feel the same way is a never ending comfort. My feelings toward things that most take for granted are not unique to me, the singing in my blood, the pull from the cold, moon and snow, and the absolute peace I feel when I give in to who I am.

*hugs you*