Innocent Little Runt

It all started when I was 6.

I was about to fall asleep after I heard my father howl, his reassurance towards me that he's safe while he’s on patrol. I shut my eyes and let sleep take over.

I was awoken in the early morning hours to my mother shaking my shoulder. "Celeste. Celeste, wake up honey. We need to go," her voice held an urgency as she spoke.

"Mommy?" I asked questionably, "What's going on?" By now I could hear growls and whimpers coming from outside.

"We have to go. Everything will be alright," she said, picking me up. I wrapped my arms around her neck. She ran out my bedroom and to the back door, where she grabbed the emergency bags that everyone in the pack has (just in case), an idea my grandpa started after one of his cousin's packs' got ambushed.

She held the bags and ran out the door. She ran as fast as she could and others joined us along the way. I saw wolves fighting, everywhere. Some had blood on their mouths, others looked like they just shifted to aid in the fight. Eventually the images of flesh being torn out of wolves necks got to me and I buried my head in my mother's frizzy brown hair.

"Where's Daddy?" I asked, scared of the answer I was hoping wasn't true.

"I'm so sorry baby," she whispered as she kept on running.

*~*~*~*

By daybreak, the fight was no longer audible. The ones who had run had stopped, my mother and I included. There were about 30 of us, all women and children.

We had taken it that either everyone else was dead or ran in a different direction. I, like many, was aware of where my unseen family was. My father was dead. If you looked in my mother's eyes you could no longer see the light that only goes out at the loss of a mate. She had wandered off when we had stopped running, to grieve, but she wouldn’t go too far away from me. I was all she had left.

Most people had started to break away from us, to go to their old packs or the pack of a close family member. Then there were the people like my mom and I who decided to stay together until we find a place to call home, if we can find a place to call home.

When my mom and all the other people who are still grieving got back we decided to start running again. We would run in human form, for the children who could not shift wouldn't be able to keep up. My mother picked up our emergency bags, which are filled with food and clothes, in one hand and picked me up with her other as we all started our descent to an unknown place.

We would run till we meet our own ends if we had to but for now the children stay in their mother's arms as we begin our descent. Because that's what we have to do, to keep ourselves safe.