Broken Ones are we, united in our common faults, our common desires, and now you cry out-- alone, in pain, I smell your fear as you try to tear yourself from the trap. Sore from the wounds you gave me, my flank bloodied from undeserved barbs you flung, yet your torment twists inside me, and I howl. I tried to warn you away from the snares, but you ran willingly back into their teeth, and when the trap slammed shut, your pain dimmed your vision, so you blamed me for telling you the truth. You pushed me away because I was honest about my intent, about my desire to bask in your radiance for a little while, knowing that the moment would be fleeting, yet wanting it nonetheless. A shallow truth is better than the agony of a sweetened lie, and now I stand over you, beside you, my broken she-wolf, wanting to comfort you but afraid to reach out, to touch your wounds and free you from the gilded cage, lest you bite me in pain-blinded rage again. Leave your shackles behind, come run with me through the midnight dew, the smell of wet grass and hot desire filling our lungs. Hunt with me, let me free you from this passing ache, and let me help you find new lands to conquer. And when the time comes to let you go, I will with a grin, satisfied that I stood for but a moment, in the shadow of a goddess who trod the shadows with her wolf beside her, unafraid, and never alone again.