The oaks on the mountain are awash in starlight. Beneath them, the wolf participates with vigor in the ruthless dance of the hunt.
Thought is unnecessary as her muscles slide against one another. Worry does not exist as her paws land on earth and fallen leaves.
She is one of many, and the many become one. They glide through the night and flank the prey and take it down, a concert in the dark.
O = oak