Gaz: I drew a picture of Wolfwood and then I thought up this little poem, enjoy.
A lone wolf travels with a gun in his hand,
His black hair covers his face,
He travels endlessly across this unforgiving land,
And he disappears without a trace.
He is an impostor, a fraud, no emotion he shows,
Many have tried to get inside his head,
Few friends he has made before he goes,
But some somehow end up dead.
But he is an assassin with a reason,
Money for his orphanage he collects,
If anyone harms them he'll beat 'em,
Yes he'll take care of any threat.
But he met a man and a strange black cat,
Who absolutely will not kill,
But this man is famous for doing exactly that,
And its not like he does it for the thrill.
So the lone wolf is alone again,
He has got the money for the kids,
He is trying to figure out his new friend,
But still not caring about what he did.