All they ever did was stare at me.
Their piercing gazes were like a million knives through my heart and it pained me too see them disappearing each day. They used to be a full pack, a full family, a forest filled with wolves but now
their numbers are dwindling. Each day a set of familiar eyes would disappear, never to be seen again. I knew my false hope wouldn’t keep them alive but I still prayed that they would still be there
the next day. It never worked. My whole life the wolves had been there, one I had seen since he was a cub. He was the one I had hoped for most and he was still lasting. For the time being.
Their eyes begged me, if they could talk they would scream help. They howled in terror each night because we all knew that one of them wouldn’t come back but I didn’t know why. But I’m sure they
He was the first wolf I looked for when they came to the woods each night and he was always there, first, in front of the whole pack. Or, what was left of it.
I kept telling myself not to cry, you can’t help it, don’t let them see you cry. I knew they were crying on the inside and that’s exactly what I had to do, not show them my fear for their lives.
Show them strength and hope but that faith grew weaker as the days past.
I knew they wouldn’t last forever but I didn’t realise how much I would hate it when he was next.
When he disappeared.
When he left the forest.
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