For the Throat

Her maker is waiting as she returns to the den Later than usual, where could she have been The maker sits quietly awaiting submission The alphess approached slowly with heavy suspicion When no ear prick nor tail sign showed any reproach For the throat of the alphess, her maker approached The alphess allowed one bite to sink in Before she lashed out herself, a rage from within Thirsting for blood and obtaining no less The alphess tore a large hole in the makers chest The maker staggered back to examine the hole Her heart was exposed, and behind it her soul Angry from weakness, angry from pain Her maker barked out a furious refrain The alphess then realized the pain she had caused But nothing could be said to give her maker pause So the alphess said nothing, she just trotted on by Leaving her maker just laying there, soon to bleed dry Apologies were made in the following days Both realizing slight errors in their ways A point was still made and forever shall be When she is united with her alpha, her maker will see