Intro
Ledger's leather cracked like the river in March
Ink gone brown but the numbers still march
Wolf cloak folded where the door used to latch
He said the debt don't heal, it learns to attach
Verse
Dawn broke iron gray over traps still steel-tight
He walked the line with lantern low, breath turned to light
Fingers cracked like kindling, numb past the glove
Counted pelts by moonlight, called it a kind of love
Trading post owed him credit, paid it out in flour and lead
Marked every debt in the ledger, red ink instead of thread
Wolf came sniffing the smokehouse, thin as a debt collector
He tracked it three days through drift, made it his protector
Skinned it slow by the fire, stretched the hide on ash-wood frame
Wore it into town like a title, wore it like a name
Store man tried to shame the tab, called the winter a test
Grandfather set the cloak down heavy, let the fur do the rest
Never boasted at the counter, let the silence do the talking
Paid the debt in full by spring, kept the ledger locked in walking
Said the wolf don't forgive weakness, only forgives who returns
Passed the book to my father with the pages he'd earned
Chorus
Wolf cloak on my shoulders, ledger in my hand
Every debt I settled is a mark I understand
Winter don't forgive you, only counts if you withstand
Wolf cloak, ledger — that's the difference in the plan
Verse
Now the traps are different, collectors call at noon
Same cold arithmetic dressed different, same old tune
I kept my own ledger, torn spiral, coffee-stained
Marked every hour worked