Amber eyes gaze down from wind swept cliff face.Over a valley and wood known well, every trail, well worn every tree and watering hole.He gazes out watching over His domain.His black fur whips in the wind as He listens and watches over.He is Wolf, the nite is His and He relishing in the freedom that is His by rite.He raises His shaggy black head and lets out a long and eery song into the nite, His song.Letting all know He rules here, the Land of the Wolf.