I saw myself. Not a reflection on the surface of a mirror or water, but instead I was in the wide open of the back of my mind.   The full mood illuminated the night with a crystal clear sky; glittered with countless stars.  Quietly I stood, looking around, across a field to where the edge of the think forest surrounded me. My spirit free within this wilderness.  The land thickly covered with undisturbed snow, I left my print marking the miles. I did not shiver from the cold, my mood brisk and fresh pressing up against the wind on my face, nose wet black, fur silken warm, ears on end listening for the sound that would break such silence; and my eyes glowed in the dark like a mystery…. Traveling on an endless pursuit of refuge where I could stop to rest safely, sidestepping the savages I instinctively fear, I sauntered on my journey alone and I pondered the path to a predestine demise.  Each day the taste of a fresh kill survived on the memory of a starved tongue, panting for prey.  Prancing in circles on all fours with each step light and graceful, tail whipping behind me to a rhythm I could only describe as natural.  Undetermined, I falter on possibilities that may never be more real than feeling untamed.   So for awhile, I just let the spirit dance with the wild.  I take uneven breath and give back a long unbroken sigh. I am aware of a presence as a foreign sent tarried on my territory, I must react.  Run with fear, cry with desperation, viciously fight, or just remain where I am, unaltered. I am surrounded by my own that take interest in me rather than move on.   They seem to out number the stars with me in the middle like the full moon shining.   Each took their turn approaching me as exposed my fangs and responded with a snarl.   The growling stirred in my throat like a monster fighting its way out from the pit of my guts.     It was not enough to keep them at distance. Closer, one by one drew nearer.   I was frozen on the brink of their motives.   This may be the day I am devoured in the midst of the winter months by the pack on the prowl. My face, featured with marks of beauty, my body a sleek and fast capsule for the soul, at risk as I face the threat.   Survivors we run the lands where hunters track us for our pelt wasting our meat.   Before me are hunters of my heart.      A brave and confident one strides forward stealing a moment in my space, I lash out jaws snapping with a quick lunge forward warning him to stay away.   My patience plays tricks with tolerance, which is along way off from acceptance. I screamed out in an untamed language, words dissolved on saliva dripping from a tongue curled around teeth waiting to bite.   Time made no promises, the circle finally enclosed in on me scanning for an outlet. Defensive and angered, trapped by circumstance, I licked my paws and waited for the opportunity to flee. By the vitality of birth I was per-assigned to death and safety was never a guarantee.   Soon another approached me with a deep groan and grunt, a steaming carcass dropped down near me. The others wandered around and wanted to sink into the body but instead mixed about with nervousness.  Blood ran through the snow and the smell traveled through my flaring nostrils. I brought myself forward compelled by hunger though I did not welcome the giver. I ate, pulling until the meat was torn from bones and only a bare skeleton remained on the surface of red snow. I was scorned and ruthless, with my head low I settle down with confidence as the moon moves to the darkest corner of the night.  Whimpering sounds the county side with echoes strolling through the trees, branches bending down to reach the lands.