THE AURORA WOLF

He stands beneath the northern lights,
a silhouette carved from starlit breath.
Gold patterns glow upon his fur—
echoes of those who walked
before the world learned language.

He lifts his face to the sky,
not to howl,
but to listen—
for the song that lives
between silence and spirit.

Around him, the mountains bow,
the night becomes a river of blue fire,
and the moon lays its blessing
on his steady heart.

In his stillness,
you hear it—
the ancient truth
that every soul
belongs to the sky.
THE AURORA WOLF He stands beneath the northern lights, a silhouette carved from starlit breath. Gold patterns glow upon his fur— echoes of those who walked before the world learned language. He lifts his face to the sky, not to howl, but to listen— for the song that lives between silence and spirit. Around him, the mountains bow, the night becomes a river of blue fire, and the moon lays its blessing on his steady heart. In his stillness, you hear it— the ancient truth that every soul belongs to the sky.
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