In the shadow of the ancient pines,
Where moonlight gently weaves,
A pack of wolves in silent line,
Treads paths the night believes.

Their eyes, like stars, reflect the night,
With wisdom deep and old,
Untold tales in every sight,
In silver and in gold.

The forest hums their sacred song,
A melody of grace,
In harmony they move along,
Through time and endless space.

Beneath the sky, a whispered vow,
In unity, they roam,
The wolves, majestic, strong, and proud,
Together find their home.