This is a little book I made on my e-mail. I have a few rules: (1) NO flamming (2) NO spamming (3) NO rude comments (4) enjoy
Here we go!
~Chapter One~
-The Feeling of Being Loved-
I, Mysty Orfa, part of the Delorian wolf pak, was on the race for my life. Ever since I was a pup, I had to race for my life. I, Mysty Orfa, has tried to survive. I had lung cancer. I was only 3 months when the cancer spread. My mother, Kila Orfa, was the only one who was willing to help me, that is, unless somehow she pursuades most of the pak to help me. My story is going to begin...
~Betrail~
When I was only 2 weeks old, the pak betrayed my mother. Only she and I were at the last pak site. She listened to how I breathe. I remeber her saying, "Doesn't sound good." Only after a few minutes I realized what that meant; I had lung cancer. Good thing it wasn't pneunomia. I think pneumonia is worse. But, I do know, the feeling of being loved. My mother was the only one who showed love to me.
-- Edited by mackenzie10 at 22:00, 2007-05-12
__________________
Sorry everyone! I have to leave this forum! (Mom!!!)
My mother cried for help. "Help! Help!" said Mother. But it was no use. No one, or no wolf, was there. A blizzard was approaching. She needed to find shelter right away! I, having barely any fur, could not survive the conditions . . . yet. I could already see. I saw dark, smokey clouds approaching us. They were in the northen area. She kept saying it's going to be alright, it's going to be alright. If only some way it would pass over us, I thought. No way possible. She threw me on her back, where she would walk and sooner or later find shelter.
~A Thousand Mile Walk, Accomplished~
I woke up the next morning, in a small shack, NEXT TO A BEACH?! She said we were at firt living in Alaska, she walked, well ran, all the way to Washington in some country called The United States of America. She said she had to pass through "Canada". Man these people, naming land. I could just walk in a river bed, call it "Burpo-liti-fussie". Well, my mother copied them, named the shack "Orfa County". "Oh, what should I name you", my mother said, "You appear to be a girl, hmm . . . I've got it! Mysty. Mysty will be your name. Mysty Care Orfa." I barked a small, quiet, happy woof. "Help!"was not the phrase anymore.
__________________
Sorry everyone! I have to leave this forum! (Mom!!!)