Lone Wolf
I don’t know
how it happened. One day I had my
siblings and paren'ts around me and the next they simply vanished. When I was just a pup, my mother always told
me stories about lone wolves, who had no homes or pack. I couldn’t imagine it. A wolf without a pack might as well be
dead. There is nothing to live for when
you are alone, yet I couldn’t give up.
Everyday was the same for me. Wake up at sunrise, try to hunt, starve,
wonder, and then just fall back asleep in the cold, unforgiving snow. No pack wanted me. I was scrawny and useless. I could barely take care of myself. I’ve heard other packs whisper about me. They couldn’t understand why I didn’t just
let myself starve to death. The truth
was that I just couldn’t let myself die.
I was not raised to give up. No
wolf was.
It was getting dark and wolves from
the nearby pack were howling restlessly.
I was sitting under a pine with low hanging branches chewing on some
rubbery berries I had found hanging in a nearby bush. They were not enough to keep me from
starving, but then again I was used to the gnawing feeling in my stomach. After finishing them up I decided to go on my
daily hunt which never went well. I
slowly stood up and immediately felt the cold wind hit my snow covered fur. I needed to run. I may be skinny and revolting to other
wolves, but when I ran I felt powerful.
All those stares and rumours would slip away and I would be on top of
the world.
By: Oana Calin
Comments