Perryelyn <-(pronounced: PERRY/YELL/IN) Walker ~
Age: 18
Personality: caring, kind, shy
Status: Unknown (Have to find out later in the story 😊)
Characteristics: Hair - Light red with gold highlights
Eyes - Green with specks of brown in them
Skinto...
Humans. It's what they distinguished us. They...as in werewolves. Sounds crazy but in my world it wasn't.
To have known there was something out there that we 'humans' didn't know existed.
The story of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf did not sound like a little kids book, meant only to scare little kids.
Everything around was a lie. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Perry's Pov
I looked at my self one more time at the broken mirror. The image of a skinny lanky boy.
Tufts of red gold hair were protruding out into little curls. A soft sqaure jaw.
With shaky hands, I adjusted my patched up shirt and my trousers with tears at the bottom of the legs.
I tilted my head towards the upturned letter. That was carelessly thrown on my bed after being read.
I picked up the letter carefully to see if somehow could this be like a dream. A dream that I will wake up to both my parents were alive and well.
A world where all was normal.
A troubled yet sad sigh escaped my lips when it was not a dream.
My eyes skimming and rereadimg the letter. Making sure I didn't miss any necessities needed.
'Dear Perry Walker, It seem we have missed out on the fact that the Walkers' had a son. On that matter, it has come to say that you are of 18 years of age. Two men are to collect you at your home this afternoon. They will escort you to a man once you reached your destination. Further instructions will be provided upon arrival. Weapons are to be presented to you if you aquire the skill to handle it. Clothes and shoes will be provided for the appropriate attire in battle. Other then that, any other items are allowed to be brought if it ensures your survival.
-Westin Drew, Commander of the Battle Field and other Stationaries.'
I set the letter back on to my bed turning around quickly to grab my father's wool hooded cape. A gift from my mother to him.
A memory comes up at the sight of my father's hooded cape.
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I came running down the steps of our door as fast as my ten year old feet can go. To hear father scuffle his way to the house with his boots.
Today was his birthday. Age doesn't seem to bother him at all.
When I came to ask him why, he would settle me onto his lap and stare with passion in his eyes.
Looking between mother and I, and said, "To spend a day with you or even to have you both in my life is what makes me feel young".
