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Essay on The Guardian: A Narrative Fiction

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Racing freely across the mountain, I felt as though nothing could touch me. Cold snow tumbled off my pelt as I put less and less distance between me and my prey.
I leapt, paws outstretched and strong jaws ready to bite, then effortlessly took down the dark creature. As soon as my sharp teeth came into contact with the beast, it crumbled into a pile of ash. Another day, another demon.
Suddenly, my sharp ears heard something. Footsteps. Human feet, crunching in the snow, and too far away to be a threat. I was unfazed and began to sniff out another demon. My nose found one, rather far away but dangerously close to the human. I wasn’t afraid. These monsters have been attacking the village for years, and I was their only protector. Humans
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Still panting from the chase, I turned and evaluated my surroundings. I was close to home, although without fur it was a cold trek down the mountain. Once inside my own home, I lit a fire and warmed up some pumpkin pie from last night’s dessert. It was an odd orange-grey, gritty, and not sweet, but it was food and I would eat it. I then sat in the old rocking chair and enjoyed breakfast.
“Fenris?” My brother emerged from our shared bedroom, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Why do you always get up so early? It’s like you don’t sleep.”
“Sometimes I don’t,” I informed my younger brother, Cecil.
“What?” Cecil started to say, but was interrupted by our older brother stepping out of his room.
“Hey, what time is it?” Anton asked, sounding awake. He had obviously been up for a long time. His hair was combed and he was wearing his glasses.
“Just after sunrise. I’ve made breakfast,” I told Anton.
“Well, thank you. Cecil, go have some breakfast. Fenris, I’m going into town today. I have gotten a letter, and I need to meet with someone named Schelet. He’s offering me a job, I think. His note was rather vague, but he said he had a proposal,” Anton said with a shrug.
“Well, good luck,” I said as I turned back to my pie. Anton gathered a coat, hat and gloves. It was often cold outside, so our outerwear was worn and old. Anton’s looked as though they had existed for centuries. “Take my coat,” I offered. “I’ve just bought another.”
Anton stopped. “What? Fenris, how
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