The wolf in the brush

As the moon rises and sun falls,
a boy walks under stoned walls.
Apon a hooded stranger does he stumble,
ears open should he grumble.

Not a word he should say,
as the boy goes on his way.
Then with a flurying rush,
a wolf spring froms the brush.

Towords the man does it fly,
still is the boy, the man might die!
Going as fast as he can,
to stop the beast and save the man.