My past is not what is important. The future is what's important, but to better foresee the future one must refer to the past. I was raised as all other wolf pups are raised. Though they are usually born towards spring, we were born in the dead middle of winter. It was harsh, but we got through it somehow. Though I was born first, I was the runt of the litter. We grew up and winter quickly turned to spring, spring to summer, and summer to fall. One day towards the middle of spring, some men came. They came with sticks of fire. Though we fought back, we could not match the power of those sticks. I managed to get away. Though I was wounded, I managed to find refugee in a small town. There I found out that not all men were like the ones that killed my family. An older gentleman and his wife took me in and helped me. Somehow, they knew I would not harm them. I stayed with these kind people for many a full moon, but sadly all things must die. Now I wonder the streets looking for a new owner. I wander back and forth between owner to owner.
Unknown "Jimalia " Loyal - 16 years, 11 months, 11 days ago