Creative Writing: Duskclan Dog

“Yes I am dad.” Kevin screaming at the top of his lungs,” Mr.Cromwell needs to go!” While Howie and Kevin argued ,Cromwell was over there eating Kevin’s breakfast, waffles. It was too late, Howie and Kevin turned around ,the waffles were gone.Kevin and Howie went straight over to doggy daycare. Cromwell had stayed 1 hour knowing he wanted to leave.

“Shoteka! We can not go around starting fights with the Choctaw boys. Who knows what will happen!” She scolded me. I put my hands up defensively.

I can’t recall much of what it was like growing up in a tiny two bedroom apartment in Northern Mississippi but I do remember the first book I read and how it paved the way for my literature career. Leading up to my first read I was taught the alphabet at a preschool near my mom’s work. I had little to no trouble learning the alphabet when I was younger but reading was a brand new concept to me. At night, after we finished one of my mother’s delicious home cooked meals my parents and I would retreat to my room where they would read to me until I fell asleep. Sometimes they would ask what a word was in a book and I would answer correctly but a good part of the time I was wrong. This lead to an uncertainty in my reading that would come back

Her voice was like a whisper as the jail’s bars slowy closed upon her face. her vision was still dizzy, and she had not eat anything for hours. turning her head back, she tried to walk. clumsy steps were the best she could do, occasionally almost stumbling to reach the bed, or at least what seemed like a bed to her.

"You know you're coming back, just like every other time," laughed a Eraser to my side darting forward to nudge me harshly in the side. I fell to the ground biting my cheeks in rage. I knew they were taunting me and I also knew my Alpha Rage was causing the red spots in my vision but that didn't stop me from snapping my jaws threateningly back at him as another came and swiped at my side drawing blood. Seeing my own blood only made me angrier and I growled warningly at all of them showing my own sharp canines.

“No Sir, I’m sure it's them wolfs again” he said worried, while the chief looked at me with hate.

Hello I’m called Pearl, this is the first time that I have ever had a name. Also, this is the first time I have ever felt any optimism. Finally, I’ve been freed from my hellish life, and I look forward to seeing another day for the first time, ever! I was rescued from a puppy mill, where as you can see I suffered from great neglect! No one cared to bathe or groom me.

When I am away, the deep sapphire sky is no more Replaced with dark and stormy clouds that resemble depression The plantation and scenery run past my eyes, no hint allusion For its beauty is the sole reasoning behind my overruling obsession Just look at the wildflowers, multi-coloured and swaying in the wind The waratah, the kangaroo paw and the good ol' desert pea

“I know you don’t believe that.” Eddie countered, his eyes faded back to normal, but a bitterness still remained in his voice. “I can hear your heart racing. You keep forgetting

I sighed. "You can do whatever you want with the blade of justice, but it won't work against me." I have trained to defend myself against any kind of magic. To defend demon hunters who want to eliminate me. I was boring, so I started thinking about my past, where all the things happened.

Cullen began to pace, before pointing angrily at him through the bars of his cell. “You were always weak. ”

"I don't approve of you talking about my leader like that." I hissed, defending the very tom who had threatened me. By now Smokestorm and I were once again close enough to touch, only the thin border line separating

“Why didn’t you tell me? We shouldn’t be here! Why would you bring me into these woods were you new there were werewolf’s who probably hate you? You can deal with this on your own, take the last bullet.” Rob said, angry. Then he started following the path back to the camp.

Injured as he was, Dave resented being taken out from the pack. Grunting and growling while the traces were unfastened, and whimpering. For the pride of trace and trail was his but sick unto death, he could not bear that another dog should do his work. Dave liked his spot and qualified every need needed for his place but he was just very weak. So powerless, he could barely walk.

“You have no right to speak to me that way,” he snarled, licking on of his sharp claws.