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I hear the call of the wild. It's loud this night. The majestic wolves that wander the snow-covered hills howl to the cold moon above. Are they singing, I wonder? Calling each other to the hunt? Warning off other creatures to protect the pack? Perhaps it's none of these things, but the sound certainly sends shivers down my spine. It makes my mind race when I should be asleep in a warm, cozy bed.
Wolves are mighty hunters, showing honor and ferocity that would make any Nord proud. They have their world beyond the fires of our villages, and we have ours. Yet at times like these, when sleep eludes me and the haunting howls fill the night, our two worlds merge. As long as that merging remains figurative, I can sit here and listen and dream.
And thank Mara's heart they have no desire to come closer to our homes and hearths … for this night, at least.