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Description
A lot of her neighbors told her to shut up. That she was a general disturbance. She had just shook her head and ignored them without even a blink. At sun high, she sunned on a rock flat that has always provided warmth for the usual creatures.
“Hey, girl!” a tanned snake called. “You had enough time there. Give someone else a chance.” She silently backed off the rock, and retreated into the trees. She had no name. Wanted one, yeah, but had no one to name her. Who was she anyways, The other creatures always asked. Did she belong here? This is her life story…
“Awe, wook at the cute wittle puppies!” a little girl cried, pointing at a box on the corner of the street containing puppies. Her mother chose the the little girl a nice tan puppy. The little girl squealed in delight, and they left. The hours went by, and when the sun finally set, there were two puppies remaining.
Not too long into the night, it started snowing. The puppies couldn’t do anything but stay where they were, so they curled around each other and went to sleep.
In the morning, the she-pup stood up and shook the snow out of her pale, grey fur. She nudged her brother to get up and play with her, but he was terrifyingly cold. And unresponsive. She whined and knew she had become lonely. The snow was starting to melt, and a corner of the box containing her was soggy, so she just climbed out of the box and headed in one direction at random.
Walking for almost half a mile in the snowy gloom, the she-pup came to the edge came to the edge of a forest. At this point, her paws hurt so she took shelter in an old sycamore tree that had a rotted hole in the base.
When she woke up, she walked deeper into the forest, hearing many strange noises and scenting many unknown scents. She didn’t feel afraid, just uncertain. A crow cawed, and the she-pup jumped. Looking around, she realized the forest looked friendlier. Her muscles relaxed and she trotted through the tangled trees.
A fast shape that darted in her path stopped her in her tracks. The shape darted back and stopped in front of her. It was a white wolf slightly older and larger than she.
He peered at her with stunning green eyes, and finally touched noses with her in a friendly greeting.
“Hi, I’m Rebel. Who are you?” The she-pup just stared at him in hesitation. “Do you have a name?” This struck the poor she-pup as an insult.
“Um, sorry Rebel,” She finally responded. “But I don’t really have a name.”
“Well, ok. If you live around here, I guess I’ll see you later...”
“Yeah, bye Rebel.”
This was a year ago. She hadn’t seen Rebel at all. Now she retreated into the trees of the forest, and walked down an unofficial path. Her stomach was growling, signaling her hunger. She went into hunter’s mode, and later caught a large, plump rabbit.
Licking her jaws after a chow down, she walked gracefully further into the trees to a ring of trees with sunlight pouring in bunches through the leaves. Standing in the middle of the clearing, silhouetted by sunlight, was Rebel. He stared straight at her, expectantly, as in waiting. She cautiously stepped forward, inching closer to him. He was bigger and more mature now. He still had those stunning green eyes that gazed steadily at the she-dog, looking her over. When she joined him by his side, they walked side-by-side out of the clearing in silence.
A dark shape peered from behind a tree watching the two animals walk away from the sun trees, tail wrapped in a swirl. This was a midnight black wolf that was out casted from these parts of the forest long ago. He had seen the she-dog, and he wanted her for his mate. It was almost breeding season, and he had to somehow get her away from that white wolf before she was his. Not much time. He retreated back into the shadows.
Rebel and the she-dog romped around in a large field covered with flowers, nipping and rolling around each other. When they became exhausted, they curled around each other, resting.
“I’ve been thinking,” Rebel said after his breathing had returned to normal. “A pretty thing like you needs a name.” The she-dog turned her head and looked at him longingly.
“That would be nice,” she responded. “But what?”
“How about— ” Rebel was cut off by the black wolf.
“ —Lovely Flower, or maybe Little Puff. No, I know, Snowdog.” Rebel stood up immediately with the she-dog.
“Go away, Outcast. No one wants you here, or anywhere.”
“That’s no way to talk to me, now is it brother? Or lets call you by your birth name. Runt.” Outcast said, grinning and showing his gleaming sharp teeth.
The she-dog stepped between the two wolves before they could go any further.
“There is NO need to fight,” she said with a growl. “Nice to meet you Outcast. I think.. Rebel can cool down a bit.” She rubbed her head against his. Outcast watched this and let out an accidental growl, in which Rebel returned.
Without warning, Outcast lunged for Rebel, jaws parted. He knocked the she-dog away in fury and tried to get a grip on Rebel’s throat. Rebel dropped to the ground and instinctively heaved Outcast onto his back. In a flash, Rebel was up and ontop of his brother, snapping at his muzzle and throat.
Outcast clawed at Rebel’s underside with his hind legs, but the white wolf didn’t seem to notice. At this point, the she-dog was now panicking, not knowing what to do. Outcast snapped his jaws twice, and then found he had gotten a grip of Rebel’s neck. When Rebel paused for a second, Outcast scurried up, and flipped his brother in the ground, still having a death grip on his throat, biting deeper. Rebel was confused, but managed to whisper a name that came into his head.
“SnowJay.” he said weakly, struggling for a breath. In a flash, the dog hurled into Outcast, and clawed at his eyes in fury. Rebel was still on the ground, blood spilling out of his neck and body, still struggling for a breath. But he was still alive. She was now SnowJay, and proud of it. Outcast was blind, on the ground and wailing, and his stomach was shredded. Her rage was calming now, so she backed up and sat on her haunches surveying the two hurt wolves.
Rebel staggered to his feet and limped to where SnowJay was sitting. They both looked at the yowling, defeated, black wolf. Rebel stared upon his brother, then nudged SnowJay. They both walked away toward their dugout den.
Still in the field, Outcast was dying from his gashing wounds that was still trickling blood. A golden wolf appeared by his side, then disappeared again with Outcast, at her feet. Any sign of a battle in the flowered field was erased, except for a patch of crushed flowers.
“Hold still,” SnowJay said, licking Rebel’s wounds. “I don’t want them to get infected. OOF, stay still!” Rebel tried his hardest to stay still on the ground, but his cuts were painful now. SnowJay finished after a quick look over of every wound. He was going to live alright, but for now, he had to stay put.
“But what about food?” Rebel had whined crossly.
“You can hunt tomorrow.” SnowJay had replied gently. She curled up next to Rebel for the night. The last thing she heard before slipping into sleep was his rhythmic breathing.
When Rebel woke up, he felt really sore. He raised his head and looked around for SnowJay. She wasn’t around. He panicked without reason and stood up, ignoring the pain that blasted through his body. SnowJay entered the den and seen Rebel up. She growled and told him to stay put. Relieved, he obeyed.
When he surveyed the den, he noticed that SnowJay had brought in grasses and hay. All of it was mostly lush and new. SnowJay caught him staring, and quickly stood in front of the pile.
“I can explain,” she said nervously, looking back and forth. “But your probably gonna not believe me…”

Not finished, will work on more when I feel like it..

Description
A lot of her neighbors told her to shut up. That she was a general disturbance. She had just shook her head and ignored them without even a blink. At sun high, she sunned on a rock flat that has always provided warmth for the usual creatures.
“Hey, girl!” a tanned snake called. “You had enough time there. Give someone else a chance.” She silently backed off the rock, and retreated into the trees. She had no name. Wanted one, yeah, but had no one to name her. Who was she anyways, The other creatures always asked. Did she belong here? This is her life story…
“Awe, wook at the cute wittle puppies!” a little girl cried, pointing at a box on the corner of the street containing puppies. Her mother chose the the little girl a nice tan puppy. The little girl squealed in delight, and they left. The hours went by, and when the sun finally set, there were two puppies remaining.
Not too long into the night, it started snowing. The puppies couldn’t do anything but stay where they were, so they curled around each other and went to sleep.
In the morning, the she-pup stood up and shook the snow out of her pale, grey fur. She nudged her brother to get up and play with her, but he was terrifyingly cold. And unresponsive. She whined and knew she had become lonely. The snow was starting to melt, and a corner of the box containing her was soggy, so she just climbed out of the box and headed in one direction at random.
Walking for almost half a mile in the snowy gloom, the she-pup came to the edge came to the edge of a forest. At this point, her paws hurt so she took shelter in an old sycamore tree that had a rotted hole in the base.
When she woke up, she walked deeper into the forest, hearing many strange noises and scenting many unknown scents. She didn’t feel afraid, just uncertain. A crow cawed, and the she-pup jumped. Looking around, she realized the forest looked friendlier. Her muscles relaxed and she trotted through the tangled trees.
A fast shape that darted in her path stopped her in her tracks. The shape darted back and stopped in front of her. It was a white wolf slightly older and larger than she.
He peered at her with stunning green eyes, and finally touched noses with her in a friendly greeting.
“Hi, I’m Rebel. Who are you?” The she-pup just stared at him in hesitation. “Do you have a name?” This struck the poor she-pup as an insult.
“Um, sorry Rebel,” She finally responded. “But I don’t really have a name.”
“Well, ok. If you live around here, I guess I’ll see you later...”
“Yeah, bye Rebel.”
This was a year ago. She hadn’t seen Rebel at all. Now she retreated into the trees of the forest, and walked down an unofficial path. Her stomach was growling, signaling her hunger. She went into hunter’s mode, and later caught a large, plump rabbit.
Licking her jaws after a chow down, she walked gracefully further into the trees to a ring of trees with sunlight pouring in bunches through the leaves. Standing in the middle of the clearing, silhouetted by sunlight, was Rebel. He stared straight at her, expectantly, as in waiting. She cautiously stepped forward, inching closer to him. He was bigger and more mature now. He still had those stunning green eyes that gazed steadily at the she-dog, looking her over. When she joined him by his side, they walked side-by-side out of the clearing in silence.
A dark shape peered from behind a tree watching the two animals walk away from the sun trees, tail wrapped in a swirl. This was a midnight black wolf that was out casted from these parts of the forest long ago. He had seen the she-dog, and he wanted her for his mate. It was almost breeding season, and he had to somehow get her away from that white wolf before she was his. Not much time. He retreated back into the shadows.
Rebel and the she-dog romped around in a large field covered with flowers, nipping and rolling around each other. When they became exhausted, they curled around each other, resting.
“I’ve been thinking,” Rebel said after his breathing had returned to normal. “A pretty thing like you needs a name.” The she-dog turned her head and looked at him longingly.
“That would be nice,” she responded. “But what?”
“How about— ” Rebel was cut off by the black wolf.
“ —Lovely Flower, or maybe Little Puff. No, I know, Snowdog.” Rebel stood up immediately with the she-dog.
“Go away, Outcast. No one wants you here, or anywhere.”
“That’s no way to talk to me, now is it brother? Or lets call you by your birth name. Runt.” Outcast said, grinning and showing his gleaming sharp teeth.
The she-dog stepped between the two wolves before they could go any further.
“There is NO need to fight,” she said with a growl. “Nice to meet you Outcast. I think.. Rebel can cool down a bit.” She rubbed her head against his. Outcast watched this and let out an accidental growl, in which Rebel returned.
Without warning, Outcast lunged for Rebel, jaws parted. He knocked the she-dog away in fury and tried to get a grip on Rebel’s throat. Rebel dropped to the ground and instinctively heaved Outcast onto his back. In a flash, Rebel was up and ontop of his brother, snapping at his muzzle and throat.
Outcast clawed at Rebel’s underside with his hind legs, but the white wolf didn’t seem to notice. At this point, the she-dog was now panicking, not knowing what to do. Outcast snapped his jaws twice, and then found he had gotten a grip of Rebel’s neck. When Rebel paused for a second, Outcast scurried up, and flipped his brother in the ground, still having a death grip on his throat, biting deeper. Rebel was confused, but managed to whisper a name that came into his head.
“SnowJay.” he said weakly, struggling for a breath. In a flash, the dog hurled into Outcast, and clawed at his eyes in fury. Rebel was still on the ground, blood spilling out of his neck and body, still struggling for a breath. But he was still alive. She was now SnowJay, and proud of it. Outcast was blind, on the ground and wailing, and his stomach was shredded. Her rage was calming now, so she backed up and sat on her haunches surveying the two hurt wolves.
Rebel staggered to his feet and limped to where SnowJay was sitting. They both looked at the yowling, defeated, black wolf. Rebel stared upon his brother, then nudged SnowJay. They both walked away toward their dugout den.
Still in the field, Outcast was dying from his gashing wounds that was still trickling blood. A golden wolf appeared by his side, then disappeared again with Outcast, at her feet. Any sign of a battle in the flowered field was erased, except for a patch of crushed flowers.
“Hold still,” SnowJay said, licking Rebel’s wounds. “I don’t want them to get infected. OOF, stay still!” Rebel tried his hardest to stay still on the ground, but his cuts were painful now. SnowJay finished after a quick look over of every wound. He was going to live alright, but for now, he had to stay put.
“But what about food?” Rebel had whined crossly.
“You can hunt tomorrow.” SnowJay had replied gently. She curled up next to Rebel for the night. The last thing she heard before slipping into sleep was his rhythmic breathing.
When Rebel woke up, he felt really sore. He raised his head and looked around for SnowJay. She wasn’t around. He panicked without reason and stood up, ignoring the pain that blasted through his body. SnowJay entered the den and seen Rebel up. She growled and told him to stay put. Relieved, he obeyed.
When he surveyed the den, he noticed that SnowJay had brought in grasses and hay. All of it was mostly lush and new. SnowJay caught him staring, and quickly stood in front of the pile.
“I can explain,” she said nervously, looking back and forth. “But your probably gonna not believe me…”

Not finished, will work on more when I feel like it..