The wolf does not touch the dead — not man, not beast — its honor stands above hunger.
It loves only once, for life; never crossing bloodlines, never betraying.
If its mate dies, it chooses solitude over replacement.
It knows its young, and when its parents grow frail with age, it returns — bringing food, bringing loyalty.
When you kill a wolf, it holds your gaze — no fear, no hatred — until its soul slips away.
Smarter than the cleverest dog by far, yet it cannot be tamed; no leash, no whip can command its spirit.
They say the wolf is the villain — But sometimes, what they call evil… is simply misunderstood.
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