The Vampire,

shifting, drifting,

uncomfortably,

gaped at the wolf,

the full moon in his eye,

clawing was the last thing he would try,

his bronze skin,

glistening with an even greater sheen,

his vein thin,

darkness would sin,

it was an odd scene,

the Vampire had his hands

draped behind his back,

anticipated an attack,

but there was none,

the wolf was finished,

he was done,

and the moon hid behind the clouds,

the wolf was done,

and he was on the run.