…when stillness sounds violent during calm vibrant vibrating insects strumming their wings humming hymns they sing about the footfalls of wolves on cold nights — breath bursting from their teeth with puffs of steam rising past their moonlike eyes nocturnally shining darting on us wandering in the woods blinded can’t see the wolf can’t even hear it until the growl announces the fight like a round one bell only this time you better pull a gun or else you are done, a knife perhaps you could stab its stomach as it leaps, if it leaps, I’d imagine that it would just thrash you by a limb, toppling you to the ground swiftly putting teeth in your neck clenching with high pressure till you have no breath and the knife you so planned to save your life rolls off your unsqueezed hand. You hear a low growl as you fade like wind darted sand.