we travel for weeks.
it is hard on our backs.
it is hard on our paws.
i hardly get any sleep.
none of us are used to this change.
i carry her sometimes,
when she is too tired.
her feet hurt.
she is light because of the lack of food.
her bag has run out.
she is exhausted.
we all are.
but we stick together.
we hunt.
we continue.
we pass mountains and forests.
rivers and waterfalls.
then we stop.
this is the place.
forest covered in snow.
empty of humans.
full of life.
there's rivers for water and caves for homes.
this has to be the place.
she is too tired to care.
i try to tell her this is the place.
but she sleeps on.
i am scared.
scared for her.
❄️
YOU ARE READING
Prince of Wolves
Short Storyi hear them howl, for them. for me. for flesh. for blood. and i wonder, i wonder if i'm supposed to feel so empty, so cold. ❄️ #674 in short story - july/august 2017 #216 in my youth - august 2018 -completed
