Lobo lingers lusting with hunger.
Lobo lurking in the slumber of daylights awareness.
Lobo thirst is aired in the sandy mist.
Lobo whiffs the vapors of a lamb freshly birthed.
Lobo stalks slow and stealthy slithering like silk in the sagebrush.
Lobo linger as the prey beys, just a leap away.
Lobo thunk and it stumbles, eyes a blur see a jenny through it cascading tear.
Lobo whimpers and stumbles back hackles lay flat.
Lobo all limp hunter stumbles over the ashen lump.
Lobo in a sack on the way to be stretched on a rack.
Lobo tough and tanned soften that hide turn it into a stole for a june bride.
Lobo on display upon a vixens nape, hunger is that a grave mistake?