As the moon rose high above the horizon, releasing rays of sunshine that poured onto the hillside like water, A gray dog sat beside a tree. He stared at his paws, shaking due to the cold weather, but one other thing - fear. The waves of cold air chilled him to the bone, making him shake.
Now, staring at his paws, he was hit by another memory of the lake. His sister's body slowly fading into the shadowy body of water. Her screams and yelps were silent. The unforgettable event had left the small dog traumatized.
He had just been playing with his sister, nothing bad, just sliding on the ice, having fun. As puppies should. Even though he was older than a puppy, he still had the energy of one, as well as his sister.
The one that angered him more than anything was that his parents blamed him for her death. They had been angry that he hadn't jumped in after her. But he would've drowned too! He couldn't swim, not in that lake!
Then, after the death of his sister, he fled. He ran, far, far away from the lake, not even looking at his parents for another second. How could he? He was too mad at them.
He growled to himself, "It should've been me in the lake, drowning! Not her!" he looked around him, Oh it is my fault! I'm so stupid. He thought, curling up in a ball of fur. He curled his tails around him, grief freezing him in that position. They were only puppies. No, she was only a puppy when she died, despite being the same age, she had to die a puppy.
He looked at the sky, taking a deep breath he said into the wind, "I'm sorry Ma, I'm sorry." he whispered, sadness bright in his quiet voice, "I didn't mean for this to happen, forgive me"
Then, he fell into a deep sleep, only to dream of the lake incident again.
YOU ARE READING
Tunnels of Trickery - book 1 (Endless cave)
Fantasy-------- A group of four dogs have been living with each other, taking care of one another as if they were siblings, but when a dog approaches one of the members and imprisons all of them, they have to stick together and use their strengths to fight...
