A wild moon threatens the still
spruce silhouetted on the skyline.
The shadow hound stalks at pace,
scent marking his territory at will.
The owl screeches, wise to the time
whilst the seeker whistles prematurely
and a mother barks warning her kind.
The haunting echo of the distant roar
taunting the neighbouring balladeers,
a prelude: the percussive climax to come.