Yellow glow in fiery eyes,
running over snow and ice.
Exhaling condensating breath,
fearing nothing, not even death.

They are the kings of their own realm,
their enemies they can just overwhelm,
for they are long seasoned hunters all
and will never be the loosers in any brawl.

Dreaded by their enemies and prey alike,
everyone fears them and their deadly strike,
the deafening punch from those furry paws
and the bite of sharp-teethed, muscled jaws.

Concealed well on the forrest ground,
unnoticed they gather all around,
to catch their victim in surprise, 
deadly fervor gleaming in bright eyes.

Even the strong, fast and antlered elk or deer,
who had the luck, their silent growl to hear,
will find each and every try to escape in vain,
for those enduring hunters will surely be his bane.

So, if you hear them coming, hear the muzzled growls,
and feel your heartbeat stopping, frozen by their howls,
then run, run as fast as you ever hoped you could,
for it is the wolves, running, running trough the wood!