Why do people hate what's different? Despise what they can't change? Cause violence to rise over power and control? Why do I always seem to be Different?
"Boom!" The sound of a gunshot ricochets straight up to the sky, and the hunt is on.
The frosty snow nips at my paws with each erratic step I take. Each growl I hear behind me is motivation for me to push through the moonlit trail. My brown and dirtied fur gets slaps from thorns and branches, but my adrenaline successfully numbs the pain.
I use my small size as an advantage to help push through small openings of thorny bushes and fallen logs
'He killed her,' runs through my mind along with the dreadful thought of, 'I'm next.'
My limbs ache, my heart pounds, my vision is blurred. Everything hurts.
Run...run..run! My primal instincts kick in and I push through the pain of my limbs and heart to live.
A howl is heard from their Alpha when I jump across a river.
I've escaped their territory. My body finally succumbs to sleep.
*****
The happy chirps from families of birds greet me as I wake. Yet so does the hot breath of a large grey wolf. Fortunately, he doesn't attack, but he does rest on his hind legs and stares me down, waiting for me to state my presence. Obviously, I don't look like a threat. I was the runt of my old pack and I'd bet I'd be the runt of this pack too.
Why hasn't he attacked yet?
Wolves don't tend to like rogues on their territory because they'd take over their resources or just be unpredictably violent. Yet, that is what I am now, aren't I? No pack, no family, no home. I'm the very definition of a lone wolf.
I slowly stand and see that the wolf's eyes are glazed over. As if... in deep thought, yet he continues to assess me carefully. His eyes widen in what seems like recognition just before he begins to growl menacingly. I nearly fall into the river behind me in surprise.
My body acts before I can even think, I bolt. He's quite literally on my tail. His teeth clamp down at the tip of it and I yelp in pure pain. The border here looks to be a few feet ahead and I take a leap of faith at the last moment. My fur gets soaked in mud as I slide across the wet ground.
Next time I won't let my guard down.
ESTÁ A LER
Neoma's Journey
Lobisomens*Used to be named, "My Alpha, My Mate"* ***** "You may not feel this way, and that's fine." His hand lowers to my chin, and he gently tilts my head. Only to lean in and brush his lips against my ear. "But I know who I want." My mate's hot tongue slo...
