Hey everyone! I’m writing a story that I hope I can publish soon. I have three chapters so far, and I would love to hear y’all’s advice and thoughts on it. I should have a chapter up once a week.
I lay awake in my bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. It’s pitch black in my room, but I can see well enough to make out the faint outlines of the furniture. My mind races as I take in the familiar lay out of my room, ruling out any possibility of sleep. You see, I was born with OCA1a, or, if we’re being technical, Oculocutaneous Albinism type one, sub-type 1. Long story short, that means my body can’t produce any melanin, the pigment that gives people their color, at all. Instead of looking normal like the rest of my family, I was born with pure white skin, snow-white hair, and very pale blue eyes. No melanin, no color.
I sigh softly, turning onto my side and dangling my arm over the side of the bed. Being the youngest of four, I’ve never lacked encouragement or reassurance, but being so different from other people is always hard. My parent’s decision tonight was only going to make things harder. I replay the memory, my eidetic memory only making it more vivid. I can still see the soft, yet unyielding determination in their eyes as they tell me that, after being homeschooled my whole life, I will be attending my Sophomore year at Timberview High School in town. I protested, of course, and had tried my hardest to change their minds, but I knew that look and had soon stopped trying.
How can I make them understand what is surely in store for me there? All I can think of are the reactions I receive when I go into town with the rest of my family. I can still feel the stares when we walk through town, burning into my back like red-hot coals, still feel the sharp words and barbed comments digging into my skin, only to be re-lived later.
“Was she in an accident? Is that why she looks . . . strange?”
“Is . . . she adopted?”
“Why does she look so freakish?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to remember that it doesn’t matter what others think. My family loves me. That’s enough . . . right? I chide myself after that thought comes to mind. After all, I’ve never done anything to prevent it, never stood up for or defended myself. Instead, I’ve always stayed quiet, allowing someone else to handle it. Not that I don’t want to stand up for myself, in fact, I’d love to do that more than anything. However . . . the thought of turning to look someone in the eyes, which would probably be showing disdain or some form of disgust, and saying something absolutely terrifies me.
I look down at the floor sullenly. Maybe mom and dad were right. If this is my frame of mind when thinking about other people, maybe I should try to learn how to interact with others properly. Just then I hear something that sends chills down my spine. I can hear a wolf howling in the distance, probably somewhere in the back of our property. We live on the outskirts of town, in a log cabin, and our fifty acres of woods are only marked by a simple wooden fence. Still, wolves aren’t unheard of here, and several have been spotted on the back acres of our property. Something about the howl makes me uneasy. It sounds desperate, shrill, unlike any other I’ve heard.
Just then a gunshot shatters the otherwise silent night, silencing the howl before it can end. No . . . it couldn’t be. Was someone hunting the wolves? I shoot upright in my bed, eyes wide in horror, clutching my blanket. Several more gunshots ring out, and I leap from my bed.
“NO!”
I wait anxiously as I wait for my father to come back. My mom, a doctor at a hospital, was called away for the night shift tonight, so it’s just me, dad, and David, my older brother by two years. I pace the living room, glancing out of the window every now and then, nearly jumping out of my skin when someone touches my shoulder.
I whirl around, only to find David standing there, trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. Olive skinned, with spiky brown hair and dark hazel eyes, he’s pretty much a clone of my father.
“Don’t do that!” I snap, partly in relief. “Dad went off to the back acre. I heard wolves howling, and gunshots. We think there’s a poacher out there. Probably trying to earn some money from selling the fur or something.” I respond, looking back out the window.
“That’s . . . awful.” He says, between yawns. He plops down on the couch, draping one arm over his eyes to protect them from the light. “Maybe you should go back to bed, dad can update you when he gets home.” He suggests.
I shake my head vigorously. “No, I’m staying up until he gets home. I have to know what happened.” I insist, continuing my pacing.
“Well at least calm it down some, you’re going to wear a hole right through the floor.” He comments, his voice betraying faint hints of amusement.
I shoot him a glare. “It’s not funny, David. If something goes wrong-“ Just then the front door bursts open, and I jump so high I nearly knock my head on the ceiling fan. Dad strides in. He has his coat wrapped around something, and is cradling the makeshift bundle in one arm, the other clutching his rifle.
“Poacher.” Was all he’d say, before heading to his room to put away his rifle. I glance at the bundle curiously as he passes, shooting David a look of shock when it starts to wriggle around. “Dad, is that . . . ?”
His only answer is to toss the bundle to me. I catch it with a surprised yelp, trying not to jolt it around too much.
“Yes.” He says gruffly. “I found him trying to nurse from his mother, one of the wolves the poachers shot. There were three. The mother, an adult male, probably his father, and a juvenile female, probably his older sister from another litter. You’re the one with the most animal sense in this family. Find out how to help this poor pup, I need to make some calls and put the rifle away.” He disappears into his room, shutting the door behind him.
I glance over at the shut door, a bit concerned. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my dad so upset. The news of the wolves' deaths sends a jolt of pain through me. I have always loved wolves, and I would often sneak out at night to try and catch glimpses of them. I gently put the small bundle containing the wolf pup on the floor, unwrapping it gently. A black wolf pup tumbles out of the coat, raising itself up in a sitting position, looking around with bewildered eyes. I gasp. “He’s so pretty.” I say in awe. I put out my hand out for the young pup to sniff, chuckling when it begins to chew on my hand.
“Hmm, I wonder if dad will let us keep it.” David says, getting up to look at the wolf pup. Almost immediately, the wolf pup scrambles away from him, whimpering, ears down and tail tucked between its legs.
“David! You scared him!” I exclaim, approaching the wolf pup slowly and scooping him up. Quickly, he snuggles up into the crook of my neck, whimpering. I murmur comforting words, stroking his soft, fluffy fur slowly.
“How come you're the one that animal’s like?” Pouts David teasingly. “Also, what’s up with its eyes?” He adds, circling behind me to get a better look at the wolf pup. I feel a small pang of fear, was something wrong? Did he have an eye infection or other injury?
“What are you talking about?” I say, quickly holding the wolf pup out with one hand, using the other to keep its head still as I peer into its eyes, trying to spot an infection or other injury. Instead, I realize that it’s eyes are different colors. I freeze in shock. I didn’t know wolves could be affected with heterochromia, a condition where one eye is one color, and the other is a completely different color.
“Yeah, look, his eyes are different colors. See?” He remarks, sticking his hands inside of the pockets in his plaid pajama pants.
I sigh, and cradle the wolf pup in my arms. “Yeah, I see that, David.” I say wearily. I know too well what it’s like to be different, and the fact that this wolf pup is different makes me feel . . . Connected to it somehow. Protective, even. “Well, we need a name for him, don’t we? Have any ideas, David?”
“Tracker? Hunter? Coal?” He suggests, counting the names off on his fingers.
I simply raise an eyebrow. “Uh, no. Nice try.” I look down at the wolf pup, whose eyes meet mine as he emits a soft whimper. “I think . . . Your name will be Shadow.”
I sit on one end of the couch, David stretched out on the rest of it. It’s nearly dawn, and I haven’t had a wink of sleep. Shadow is currently dozing in my lap, twitching every now and then, exhausted from last night’s events. So am I, but Shadow was up most of the night, trying desperately to suckle some milk from my fingers. I glance up at the clock, it’s around 4:45, the vet clinic should be open now, and I doubt anyone else is awake. I hesitate, no one in town would see me except for the vet, and dad doesn’t even need to know I’m gone. Besides, mom won’t be back until 6:00, I’ll definitely be back by then.
I let out a deep breath, and, determined to see this through, scoop Shadow up and creep out of the house. I don’t have time to think about clothing, but that doesn’t matter. I hadn’t changed into pajamas the night before, and though my pale yellow t-shirt is rumpled and my light blue jeans are a bit stained, I should be good. I don’t have to worry about my hair, as it’s only shoulder length, and is naturally straight and smooth, if a bit frizzy.
I look around nervously as I walk outside, quickly making my way down the wooden steps leading down our porch. I begin to walk briskly down the dirt trail that leads into town, looking around a bit nervously. The air smells crisp and cold, a chill sinking down into my bones as I start to shiver slightly. Even though it’s summer, it still gets cold at night. Shadow begins to squirm half-heartedly, and I press him closer to my body, hoping my body heat will keep him warm. I walk faster, it’s too cold for him out here, and I don’t want him to get sick. The pine needles and small twigs that have fallen from the pine trees that surround us crunch under my shoes as I walk down the path.
Soon enough, I find myself walking into town, alone. It’s a weird feeling, aaas I’m always with my family when I’m in town. Guess there’s a first time for everything. I head towards the vet clinic, a big, sprawling building that’s made out of white washed bricks. The paint is faded, chipped away in some places, but over-all, it has a rather homey feeling to it. I visit here a lot, and I’ve even interned here last summer. I made friends with one vet in particular, who was kind enough to see past my ‘freakish’ physical appearance, and give me a chance. Hopefully she’s the one on the first shift.
I peer into the glass door, trying to see who’s at the front desk. I see a rather young lady with smooth black hair and darkly tanned skin sipping on a mug of coffee at the desk. I haven’t seen her here before, she must be new. Maybe an intern or a newly graduated vet? I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as my heart starts to race. I’d have to go up to a stranger and talk to her. What would be going on in her mind? Would she hate me? Judge me? Think I’m a freak?
I can feel my body heat up and my face flush slightly at the prospect of going inside. My hand groups the handle as I try to will myself to go in. Come on, do it for Shadow. Do it for Shadow. I think. Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, I finally gather up the courage to open the door and walk inside of the building. The vet looks up, a bit wearily, then her eyes widen slightly as she sees me. I look away, keeping my head down and eyes averted, unwilling to meet her gaze, although I can practically feel her gaze burning holes right through me. I would like to say I’m used to it by now, but could someone ever be used to being looked at like they're a freak?
I walk up to the counter timidly. “H-hello? M-my name is Snow Archer. I. . . I-I found this, well, my father found this wolf pup in the woods and I was wondering if you had anything I could feed him with? His parents were, uh, s-shot by a poacher, and, um, there are no other wolves around. H-he only looks to be about a month old? D-do you have any nutritional supplements or something?” I say, my words stumbling over each other as I try to explain. I can feel my face heat up at my obvious awkwardness, and I carefully place Shadow on the counter. He begins to whine at the cold metal of the counter, and tries to stand up, but falls and lays splayed out on the counter, waiting for someone to pick him up.
The vet looks from me to the wolf, the slight shock and faint caution she’d had on her face when I came up to her faded and astonishment took its place as she took a quick look at Shadow.
“He seems to be fine.” She murmured. “A bit cold, and very hungry, but fine. Hold on, I’ll get another vet from the back and ask her opinion before I make any decisions regarding him.” She says, almost to herself, avoiding my gaze and trying not to look at me at all. I feel a slight pang, as, once again, I wish I was normal. I watch as she hurries away, and I sit in one of the cushioned chairs in the waiting area, Shadow in my lap. We only wait for a few minutes before the young woman who was at the counter before comes in with someone wonderfully familiar.
“Doctor Ryana!” I say, warm relief in my voice as I stand up and go to greet her.
“Snow! Good to see you again, honey.” Doctor Ryana replies, enveloping me in a big hug. Middle-aged, with fair skin, short, curly Auburn hair, and a face sprinkled with prominent freckles, Doctor Ryana is the best vet in town. Her bright green eyes were warm and friendly, and there was a distinct note of familiarity and friendship, something I never hear from anyone else. “Lira told me you have someone for me to see.” She says. “Care to show me?”
I nod and hold Shadow up with both hands. He blinks his mismatched eyes at Doctor Ryana. “My father found him in the woods after I heard gunshots.” I explain. “His mother, father, and older sister had been killed by poachers. He’s been trying to nurse all night though. Do you have any supplements or anything I can give him so he won’t starve?” I ask, earnestly.
“Interesting.” Doctor Ryana said as she takes Shadow out of my hands gently and begins to look him over. Shadow begins to squirm around. “He looks fine though. He has a few signs that he’s almost finished recovering from shock, but other than that, he looks fine.” She said, when she’s done examining him. “I do have some powder red milk replacement that has nutritional supplements mixed in. I’ll give you a container for it, and you can bring it home.” She said, gently handing Shadow back to me. “Other than that, I should think he’ll be just fine. Just put the milk replacement in water and stir it in, preferably in a baby bottle, he can handle that.” She pauses for a second before looking at me. “Handling a wolf is a big responsibility, Snow. He’s a wolf animal, and he always will be. It will be hard to train him. If you're not certain you want to take care of him, we can always send him to a wildlife rehab center. That way, he can be wild and free again.”
I shake my head firmly as soon as I hear that. “Thank you for the milk replacement, Doctor Ryana, but I’m going to keep him.” I say, determined. “I felt something, when my father gave him to me. A connection. I’m not going to let him go.”
Doctor Ryana nods, slowly. “Alright then, Snow. If you need any help from me, no matter what it is, you come get me, you hear?”
I smile. A real, honest to goodness smile. “I will.” I promise her.
Last edited by SharpSight; July 17th, 2021 at 08:31 PM.
Hey everyone! I’m writing a story that I hope I can publish soon. I have three chapters so far, and I would love to hear y’all’s advice and thoughts on it. I should have a chapter up once a week.
I lay awake in my bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. It’s pitch black in my room, but I can see well enough to make out the faint outlines of the furniture. My mind races as I take in the familiar lay out of my room, ruling out any possibility of sleep. You see, I was born with OCA1a, or, if we’re being technical, Oculocutaneous Albinism type one, sub-type 1. Long story short, that means my body can’t produce any melanin, the pigment that gives people their color, at all. Instead of looking normal like the rest of my family, I was born with pure white skin, snow-white hair, and very pale blue eyes. No melanin, no color.
I sigh softly, turning onto my side and dangling my arm over the side of the bed. Being the youngest of four, I’ve never lacked encouragement or reassurance, but being so different from other people is always hard. My parent’s decision tonight was only going to make things harder. I replay the memory, my eidetic memory only making it more vivid. I can still see the soft, yet unyielding determination in their eyes as they tell me that, after being homeschooled my whole life, I will be attending my Sophomore year at Timberview High School in town. I protested, of course, and had tried my hardest to change their minds, but I knew that look and had soon stopped trying.
How can I make them understand what is surely in store for me there? All I can think of are the reactions I receive when I go into town with the rest of my family. I can still feel the stares when we walk through town, burning into my back like red-hot coals, still feel the sharp words and barbed comments digging into my skin, only to be re-lived later.
“Was she in an accident? Is that why she looks . . . strange?”
“Is . . . she adopted?”
“Why does she look so freakish?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to remember that it doesn’t matter what others think. My family loves me. That’s enough . . . right? I chide myself after that thought comes to mind. After all, I’ve never done anything to prevent it, never stood up for or defended myself. Instead, I’ve always stayed quiet, allowing someone else to handle it. Not that I don’t want to stand up for myself, in fact, I’d love to do that more than anything. However . . . the thought of turning to look someone in the eyes, which would probably be showing disdain or some form of disgust, and saying something absolutely terrifies me.
I look down at the floor sullenly. Maybe mom and dad were right. If this is my frame of mind when thinking about other people, maybe I should try to learn how to interact with others properly. Just then I hear something that sends chills down my spine. I can hear a wolf howling in the distance, probably somewhere in the back of our property. We live on the outskirts of town, in a log cabin, and our fifty acres of woods are only marked by a simple wooden fence. Still, wolves aren’t unheard of here, and several have been spotted on the back acres of our property. Something about the howl makes me uneasy. It sounds desperate, shrill, unlike any other I’ve heard.
Just then a gunshot shatters the otherwise silent night, silencing the howl before it can end. No . . . it couldn’t be. Was someone hunting the wolves? I shoot upright in my bed, eyes wide in horror, clutching my blanket. Several more gunshots ring out, and I leap from my bed.
“NO!”
I wait anxiously as I wait for my father to come back. My mom, a doctor at a hospital, was called away for the night shift tonight, so it’s just me, dad, and David, my older brother by two years. I pace the living room, glancing out of the window every now and then, nearly jumping out of my skin when someone touches my shoulder.
I whirl around, only to find David standing there, trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. Olive skinned, with spiky brown hair and dark hazel eyes, he’s pretty much a clone of my father.
“Don’t do that!” I snap, partly in relief. “Dad went off to the back acre. I heard wolves howling, and gunshots. We think there’s a poacher out there. Probably trying to earn some money from selling the fur or something.” I respond, looking back out the window.
“That’s . . . awful.” He says, between yawns. He plops down on the couch, draping one arm over his eyes to protect them from the light. “Maybe you should go back to bed, dad can update you when he gets home.” He suggests.
I shake my head vigorously. “No, I’m staying up until he gets home. I have to know what happened.” I insist, continuing my pacing.
“Well at least calm it down some, you’re going to wear a hole right through the floor.” He comments, his voice betraying faint hints of amusement.
I shoot him a glare. “It’s not funny, David. If something goes wrong-“ Just then the front door bursts open, and I jump so high I nearly knock my head on the ceiling fan. Dad strides in. He has his coat wrapped around something, and is cradling the makeshift bundle in one arm, the other clutching his rifle.
“Poacher.” Was all he’d say, before heading to his room to put away his rifle. I glance at the bundle curiously as he passes, shooting David a look of shock when it starts to wriggle around. “Dad, is that . . . ?”
His only answer is to toss the bundle to me. I catch it with a surprised yelp, trying not to jolt it around too much.
“Yes.” He says gruffly. “I found him trying to nurse from his mother, one of the wolves the poachers shot. There were three. The mother, an adult male, probably his father, and a juvenile female, probably his older sister from another litter. You’re the one with the most animal sense in this family. Find out how to help this poor pup, I need to make some calls and put the rifle away.” He disappears into his room, shutting the door behind him.
I glance over at the shut door, a bit concerned. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my dad so upset. The news of the wolves' deaths sends a jolt of pain through me. I have always loved wolves, and I would often sneak out at night to try and catch glimpses of them. I gently put the small bundle containing the wolf pup on the floor, unwrapping it gently. A black wolf pup tumbles out of the coat, raising itself up in a sitting position, looking around with bewildered eyes. I gasp. “He’s so pretty.” I say in awe. I put out my hand out for the young pup to sniff, chuckling when it begins to chew on my hand.
“Hmm, I wonder if dad will let us keep it.” David says, getting up to look at the wolf pup. Almost immediately, the wolf pup scrambles away from him, whimpering, ears down and tail tucked between its legs.
“David! You scared him!” I exclaim, approaching the wolf pup slowly and scooping him up. Quickly, he snuggles up into the crook of my neck, whimpering. I murmur comforting words, stroking his soft, fluffy fur slowly.
“How come you're the one that animal’s like?” Pouts David teasingly. “Also, what’s up with its eyes?” He adds, circling behind me to get a better look at the wolf pup. I feel a small pang of fear, was something wrong? Did he have an eye infection or other injury?
“What are you talking about?” I say, quickly holding the wolf pup out with one hand, using the other to keep its head still as I peer into its eyes, trying to spot an infection or other injury. Instead, I realize that it’s eyes are different colors. I freeze in shock. I didn’t know wolves could be affected with heterochromia, a condition where one eye is one color, and the other is a completely different color.
“Yeah, look, his eyes are different colors. See?” He remarks, sticking his hands inside of the pockets in his plaid pajama pants.
I sigh, and cradle the wolf pup in my arms. “Yeah, I see that, David.” I say wearily. I know too well what it’s like to be different, and the fact that this wolf pup is different makes me feel . . . Connected to it somehow. Protective, even. “Well, we need a name for him, don’t we? Have any ideas, David?”
“Tracker? Hunter? Coal?” He suggests, counting the names off on his fingers.
I simply raise an eyebrow. “Uh, no. Nice try.” I look down at the wolf pup, whose eyes meet mine as he emits a soft whimper. “I think . . . Your name will be Shadow.”
I sit on one end of the couch, David stretched out on the rest of it. It’s nearly dawn, and I haven’t had a wink of sleep. Shadow is currently dozing in my lap, twitching every now and then, exhausted from last night’s events. So am I, but Shadow was up most of the night, trying desperately to suckle some milk from my fingers. I glance up at the clock, it’s around 4:45, the vet clinic should be open now, and I doubt anyone else is awake. I hesitate, no one in town would see me except for the vet, and dad doesn’t even need to know I’m gone. Besides, mom won’t be back until 6:00, I’ll definitely be back by then.
I let out a deep breath, and, determined to see this through, scoop Shadow up and creep out of the house. I don’t have time to think about clothing, but that doesn’t matter. I hadn’t changed into pajamas the night before, and though my pale yellow t-shirt is rumpled and my light blue jeans are a bit stained, I should be good. I don’t have to worry about my hair, as it’s only shoulder length, and is naturally straight and smooth, if a bit frizzy.
I look around nervously as I walk outside, quickly making my way down the wooden steps leading down our porch. I begin to walk briskly down the dirt trail that leads into town, looking around a bit nervously. The air smells crisp and cold, a chill sinking down into my bones as I start to shiver slightly. Even though it’s summer, it still gets cold at night. Shadow begins to squirm half-heartedly, and I press him closer to my body, hoping my body heat will keep him warm. I walk faster, it’s too cold for him out here, and I don’t want him to get sick. The pine needles and small twigs that have fallen from the pine trees that surround us crunch under my shoes as I walk down the path.
Soon enough, I find myself walking into town, alone. It’s a weird feeling, aaas I’m always with my family when I’m in town. Guess there’s a first time for everything. I head towards the vet clinic, a big, sprawling building that’s made out of white washed bricks. The paint is faded, chipped away in some places, but over-all, it has a rather homey feeling to it. I visit here a lot, and I’ve even interned here last summer. I made friends with one vet in particular, who was kind enough to see past my ‘freakish’ physical appearance, and give me a chance. Hopefully she’s the one on the first shift.
I peer into the glass door, trying to see who’s at the front desk. I see a rather young lady with smooth black hair and darkly tanned skin sipping on a mug of coffee at the desk. I haven’t seen her here before, she must be new. Maybe an intern or a newly graduated vet? I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as my heart starts to race. I’d have to go up to a stranger and talk to her. What would be going on in her mind? Would she hate me? Judge me? Think I’m a freak?
I can feel my body heat up and my face flush slightly at the prospect of going inside. My hand groups the handle as I try to will myself to go in. Come on, do it for Shadow. Do it for Shadow. I think. Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, I finally gather up the courage to open the door and walk inside of the building. The vet looks up, a bit wearily, then her eyes widen slightly as she sees me. I look away, keeping my head down and eyes averted, unwilling to meet her gaze, although I can practically feel her gaze burning holes right through me. I would like to say I’m used to it by now, but could someone ever be used to being looked at like they're a freak?
I walk up to the counter timidly. “H-hello? M-my name is Snow Archer. I. . . I-I found this, well, my father found this wolf pup in the woods and I was wondering if you had anything I could feed him with? His parents were, uh, s-shot by a poacher, and, um, there are no other wolves around. H-he only looks to be about a month old? D-do you have any nutritional supplements or something?” I say, my words stumbling over each other as I try to explain. I can feel my face heat up at my obvious awkwardness, and I carefully place Shadow on the counter. He begins to whine at the cold metal of the counter, and tries to stand up, but falls and lays splayed out on the counter, waiting for someone to pick him up.
The vet looks from me to the wolf, the slight shock and faint caution she’d had on her face when I came up to her faded and astonishment took its place as she took a quick look at Shadow.
“He seems to be fine.” She murmured. “A bit cold, and very hungry, but fine. Hold on, I’ll get another vet from the back and ask her opinion before I make any decisions regarding him.” She says, almost to herself, avoiding my gaze and trying not to look at me at all. I feel a slight pang, as, once again, I wish I was normal. I watch as she hurries away, and I sit in one of the cushioned chairs in the waiting area, Shadow in my lap. We only wait for a few minutes before the young woman who was at the counter before comes in with someone wonderfully familiar.
“Doctor Ryana!” I say, warm relief in my voice as I stand up and go to greet her.
“Snow! Good to see you again, honey.” Doctor Ryana replies, enveloping me in a big hug. Middle-aged, with fair skin, short, curly Auburn hair, and a face sprinkled with prominent freckles, Doctor Ryana is the best vet in town. Her bright green eyes were warm and friendly, and there was a distinct note of familiarity and friendship, something I never hear from anyone else. “Lira told me you have someone for me to see.” She says. “Care to show me?”
I nod and hold Shadow up with both hands. He blinks his mismatched eyes at Doctor Ryana. “My father found him in the woods after I heard gunshots.” I explain. “His mother, father, and older sister had been killed by poachers. He’s been trying to nurse all night though. Do you have any supplements or anything I can give him so he won’t starve?” I ask, earnestly.
“Interesting.” Doctor Ryana said as she takes Shadow out of my hands gently and begins to look him over. Shadow begins to squirm around. “He looks fine though. He has a few signs that he’s almost finished recovering from shock, but other than that, he looks fine.” She said, when she’s done examining him. “I do have some powder red milk replacement that has nutritional supplements mixed in. I’ll give you a container for it, and you can bring it home.” She said, gently handing Shadow back to me. “Other than that, I should think he’ll be just fine. Just put the milk replacement in water and stir it in, preferably in a baby bottle, he can handle that.” She pauses for a second before looking at me. “Handling a wolf is a big responsibility, Snow. He’s a wolf animal, and he always will be. It will be hard to train him. If you're not certain you want to take care of him, we can always send him to a wildlife rehab center. That way, he can be wild and free again.”
I shake my head firmly as soon as I hear that. “Thank you for the milk replacement, Doctor Ryana, but I’m going to keep him.” I say, determined. “I felt something, when my father gave him to me. A connection. I’m not going to let him go.”
Doctor Ryana nods, slowly. “Alright then, Snow. If you need any help from me, no matter what it is, you come get me, you hear?”
I smile. A real, honest to goodness smile. “I will.” I promise her.
This looks great! I can see this being a great book if you decide to publish it! Keep up the good work!
Hmm, this story is just too .... AWESOME! You're a great writer, something I can't accomplish myself, and I can't wait for what comes next. I'm currently reading Twilight: New Moon and I feel that once you finish this book, it'll be an interesting read like Twilight! @SharpSight
Hmm, this story is just too .... AWESOME! You're a great writer, something I can't accomplish myself, and I can't wait for what comes next. I'm currently reading Twilight: New Moon and I feel that once you finish this book, it'll be an interesting read like Twilight! @SharpSight
Thank you! I certainly try my best, and I’m glad you like it!
In The Eye Of The Beholder (My Story)
