Wolf

The ones who ran when it got cold are gone. He moves alone but would die for the few he holds. The world sees a beast, but a beast is a heart that learned to show its teeth after being torn apart. He would rather have a hungry winter than a full bowl and a chain. Call him what you like; you cannot own him. He will not beg or bow, and stays loyal to the ground he stands on. He admits the lonely side of freedom: cold nights, a cold that gets in. But he has seen eyes where the light has gone out, and would rather feel winter than forget he is alive. A dog protects the house that feeds it; a wolf protects the ones it chose.