I woke up feeling a little better. I got an urge to look at the window, so I walked towards it. The trees were dancing with the wind again. I could imagine the caress of the breeze on my face.
"Let me go for a walk," I whispered.
I was about to turn when I noticed a chubby man walking, probably to go to the gate. I could not see his face, but I knew he was not a pack member. I don't want to discriminate, but I have never seen someone chubby in the pack.
"Probably, a visitor," I said.
I went down and went for a walk outside. My legs still feel weak. I had never imagined I could be this much sick. I mean, I have not even done anything except think and I end up like this.
Last night, when I watched the pack doing an evening run from the window, I missed it. I wanted to run, too. But my legs are too weak even to walk, how much more to r
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