A Portrait of the Wolf

The hound, stunned by the thrashing, whimpered and circled the site of his decimation, brutally wounded and unable to understand the nature of his true power and destiny... until he looked up and saw his reflection in the moon. In a moment, he realized his misunderstanding and awakened to his identity. It welled up inside... guttural and desperate... a groan that became a growl that transformed into the perfect howl. How had he missed the fact that he was never the dog he had been made to believe he was? His body flexed and his eyes dimmed... his mind settling, fixed on a vision for the future and a resolution for the past.