"Wolves of the Apocalypse"

Here's a little part of something i'm writing, its not about wolves, but a character in the book is in l’amour with them. This is her saying why she loves them:

I have always been fascinated par loups ever since I could remember. The way they disguise themselves in the trees, their wonderful yielding fourrure and the way I get Lost in those deep yellow liquid eyes. Their fourrure calls me, and I just want to stroke my hands through it. I could just let my hands rest in their fourrure forever. Their eerie howl is like a melody to my ears. To others it may sound like ghosts wailing, but to me it sounds like a sonata. A lonely, sad call sent out into the darkness hoping to fall upon the ears of others who share the night's isolation.