were linked with the rain. I could cause a flood and a

ied, fighting back my tears. I know she wouldn't. S

down. I still didn't feel like leaving the tree nor to eat anything, though I was hungry. My st

was softened by the rain. Too soft, that it was difficult to find a firm section to walk without the feel

out on meals for a week. I ne

untered along the depth of the forest trying to find anything to put a stop to my hunger. I found nothing. No rabbits, mice, birds, snakes, or other small animals. I was not a fan of fish, and neither was my grandmother. We would only consume

ank some water and return to the tree, hoping I will be lucky to catch prey the next da

It was difficult to sleep. Through a tiny hole in the tree one eye wa

efore. I found no prey. It seemed as if all the animals had migrated from where I was to another location. Dust came, and I returned home more hungrily

the forest. My stomach had had enough of being filled with water to fight the urge of hunger. I needed meat. A big juicy bone with thick fle

uld have been better this time. Not even a crawling insect I could find. I truly was feeling like the only one here. My eyes paused straight ahead of me, knowing the only way I w

I was to find food consumed my mind. But the promise I had

alpha whose name she feared to tell me, saw her. She had to block our scent from him and hide before running for safety. So, The

me, was to die as old as her, sadly I wa

t sleep. I needed food to eat. The morning I tried drinking some water to again fill my stomach.

e number of prey I could catch out there. I felt my body move and I stopped myself, recollecting the promise I had made. My head turned to look at the tree my grandmother and I once shared as our

rom the depth of the forest. I was not going to allow myself to