If anything, I brought you to me. Fires lit and blood spilt, cedar burning, moon high.
Your eyes always did shine amongst the trunks, in a myriad of greens, blending in with darkened firs and madrones.
I called for you in the night, imagined you with horns, bucking, running, singing in a circle of stones, stars bright behind a tree-line of inky, jagged black.
You were so tall and shadowy.
Offering blood and milk, I asked for you. Holding mead and troth, I gave to you…..my worship…..
My heart was a purple moon and you ate it. You wolf of the forest, buck of the Wood.
And then I could feel your movements, see through your eyes.
I baited you for the Hunt.
Gloam Gnosis 