Two types there are,
Holding the lines.
Seemingly similar,
One little divide.
Appearances; fearing.
Actions; mirroring.
One barks his warning,
Out into the night.
The other responds.
The challenge? A fight.
Stone smashes rock,
Teeth crushes bone.
All along the watchtower,
Deep baying groaned.
Regardless which returns,
The same shall they be.
Harboring inside,
The wolf they wish to be.