Her earliest memory. Burning lumber, and strangled screams.
He feels as solid as hickory. The heady smell of soil, 
and the comfort of matted emery fur under her belly
as she hangs bonelessly — draped over him like a mantle.

Running. Running. Running. Two umber eyes 
are the last kindness she sees. Her adopted mother
would find the sole survivor of a demon raid
covered in wolf fur, hidden away, inside of a hollowed tree.

----

A/N: I have a bunch of other poems already completed too, but I'll upload a few at a time.

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