That once so wild wolf, now almost domesticated.
She is worn down to her weakest point, cowering at every noise.
Her shining silver coat, dulled down to a sad grey.
Her glowing white fur, now dirty and matted with blood.
Her shimmering ebony marking on her tail, ears and paws has faded and worn.
Her broken blue-glass eyes, dim and stormy grey.
That once so fluffy, high flying flag-like tail now drags the ground showing no sign that was ever freedom or independence.
Sharp pearl white fangs, now dull and broken.
Her strong howl, like a beacon in the night, now muted to a sad whimper.
This Silver Wolf is no more.
Her fight is gone, tis been beaten out of this she-wolf.
In the Law of Club and Fang, club has surely won.