Seasoned Wolf
2 min readSep 22, 2022

New Haunt

Julien Riedel

Was as if the Gods had shaken the sky,
a giant screening,
for most of the stars lay to the south.

The crescent moon to the east lit my left shoulder.

While the remainder of the stardust was scattered across the night.

The crisp invigorated me, reminding me of familiar times and dangerous days of the past.

When I was both hunter and hunted when myth was reality for those superstitious.

Before the days of control when the full moon ruled me and bloodlust was a means to an end.

I shudder at the thought now knowing you await me comfortably in bed, while I soak in the night fragrance of younger days. A time when your taste would bring a frenzy of another kind, and each morning’s terror would haunt me until moons spirit cleared memory and morals alike.

Now anger was my greatest fear for the moon no longer held me, prisoner captive of the beast within. You gave me the means to channel that energy otherwise, draining me of all which plagued me until content greeted me in kind.

You taught me the pleasures of the flesh and a wild of another type where night forest runs played within my mind and not beneath my feet.

You were now the hunger that woke me each evening to growls lust demanding attention before the moon settled to the sun’s entry.

Now I listened attentively for your howls beneath the moonlight, a sign I was no longer alone.



Patient of life, attempting to heal oneself by Quill. Transitioning from a profession of technology.