.::. Rages of the Forest .::.

Enigmatic infusions of attributes most admired
Hellions of suppressed inner attitude with twisted rage
Such were the ones who conspired to come out dominant
Bickering, snarling and angry yowls, echo throughout the wood
And all know to beware, for the Rages of the Forest were on the prowl

First amongst the fearsome three, story of starlight she seemed to be
Dancer of dreams, a self-confidant
A being carved from ivory stone
Regally she stands, her build lithe and streamlined
An aura of power and dominance emitting
Yet, compassion burned within the depths of molten lava hues
The gateways into her soul, a dangerous fire kindled within
The flame dancing close to the surface
Pristine pelt often shimmered beautifully in the moonlight
Her gait un-naturally fulfilled with predatory grace
Pack family fed her with strength to carry on.
Lucid gaze always appeared tranquil, yet forever watchful....
Wyntir Whitespade was her name
Which rang throughout the wood
And all were aware...

Next would be the fae of ebon reality; touch of midnight
The moon's own shadow
Strong willed and even stronger of faith
Cascade of personality, this fae was a force
Always withholding family law and value
She would not be seen undermining her authority
But not pressing hers upon others
Loyal unto death was her motto
And thus how she played her game
None came between her and her beloved
Quirky quips seemed to be her angle
Humorous yet insulting was her best attack...
Kalari Kieran, she was deemed
Which would be known for all eternity
And all were aware....

Lastly, heaven's own beholder
A wolfaess born of the lunar's lustrous glow
Family oriented and keen of heart and soul
Dignified in all manners
Creature of myths she seemed to be
Crafted of tarnished silver intertwined with streaks of charcoal
Humble yet commanding golden optics peered outward
Always alert, always ready
To defend or simply to make a friend
Finely tuned huntress of the night
Serene vigil in the duration of light
Dagda` MysticSpirit was her calling...
Which would be in the minds of all
And all were aware....


Loved and feared, these wolven prowl among the heather
Stalkers of the gloom, enemies of a darker sort
Upon meeting and assortment
Fangs clash, razor claws scoring hits under fine fur
These three quarrel and squabble with hatred burning within their eyes

Yet, upon dawn's radiating colours painted against the azure sky
All fighting ceases, wounds cared for and pride nursed
Forgotten tides wash over the threesome
Forgiveness drying their esteem and their hurts
Swift nuzzles were given, past wrongs deleted from memory
All was right with the wolven world....