"Alright, little one, it's time to go," I said to no one in particular but the empty area around. My voice quietly echoed around the area and I stood from where I'd been previously squatting, pulling my long jacket from my drawstring back and swinging the camouflaged bag over my shoulder. It was heavy, but I was used to it.
The dark leather jacket fell to about my knees, though it was hard to tell since the bottom was ripped and torn to different lengths. I pulled the hood to the short sleeved shirt underneath over my long dark hair, and strapped my weapon - a long katana, stolen from an older man of my race - to my belt over my dark jeans, which clung to my legs and made walking easier. Pulling on a pair of fingerless gloves for climbing, I looked around for my companion and whistled quietly.
From the shadows, a small, dark grey wolf cub trotted happily to my heels and sat where I stood, tilting its head and widening its eyes. It was beginning adolescence, and now stood up to my knees, but still had a slightly fuzzy coat, making him look a bit odd. Most people these days wouldn't have spared the pup's life the way I had, and that's why most people these days didn't have a wolf pup as a journey partner. Wolves were misunderstood, they only became vicious due to nature's beating and harsh ways, and only needed companionship and love. I tossed him the last piece of a rabbit I'd cooked over a small fire that morning and started down the corridor.
The little wolf and I were.... nocturnal, you could say. Traveling at night, when most were sleeping, was the best for the pair of us and our dark attire. During the day we'd find a secure location to rest and eat, though sometimes it took a few days for us to come across a spot like that. Now, we were refreshed and could start on our journey again.
Where we were going? I'd no idea. Maybe just wandering around until our lives finally came to an end, just barely struggling to survive for the rest of our sick lives? It didn't actually sound half bad. It was better than selling rare drugs or making a living off of precious commodities as such. Settling down somewhere and growing your own living was an option, but it sounded boring to me, and I didn't really think my little wolf companion, Ama, was that domestic.
Often times I'd wondered things like this - I had plenty of time to. Nonetheless, as my mind wandered in this way, through a restaurant called The Greenbriar, a resturaunt my father used to take me to in my youth, I found myself tripping over a heavy object on the ground. "Shit," I grunted and rolled to my feet, pulling out my katana and facing whatever animal it could be. My eyes skimmed the face of a waking person, and I jumped. Sliding the katana back in its sheath, I pulled Ama behind me and slid into the shadows, inspecting the makeshift camp.
For some reason, my companion was whimpering, weaving around my legs and looking at the man with distrust. Only then did I notice the scattered wolf parts around, the failed attempt at this human's dinner. I swore and gave Ama a slight nudge away from the man. To a wolf killer, at least until Ama was full grown and could rip out a man's trachea without hesitation, there was only one thing we could do, and did.
Run. I would rather live life than have a thief, bandit, or else rape or kill me. Live life or die. I guess thats how this godamn world worked.
But then, I noticed the man's pistol, looking to be a Glock .45, and I revised my plans.
Run like hell.
