Fire Is Hotter Than Blood

37° F/3° C. Chewed on life on the porch with my brother. Puffed, sipped and mingled thoughts with my brother. Frozen toes, warm counsel. A smoke arose. A secret congress. A consort howl. A breath of half-forgotten strength vented from below, or from above. The vagabond wolf, separated from the pack, finds the warmest hearth. What is kinship when its bonds die away? Friendship remains: The guide to turf, to den, to country, to money, to mate, to feast – to every spoiled dream.