By Marius Dinu
Their third bite was in my back, pushing me flat to the ground. Face in the dirt, I see her behind the tree line, her blonde curls stuck to her wet cheeks as she calls for me, but I can’t move. I scream for help, but no one’s there. I know it’s too late for me. The wounds don’t hurt anymore but they drain my strength. What hurts is sorrow, for I’ve failed my motherly duty. Can’t go and hold my angel. Right before another wolf bites my lip, I cry out, “Just run, baby; run!” I’ll hold them for you.
A very strong, touching story. A winner!
Thanks man, I appreciate it.
We’ll see about winning, I’ll keep you posted 🙂