no one is real

[Artemis Marino]

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c:

Soft blue eyes looked down incredulously at the small, roughed-up puppy. No one in the pack that she knew of had young children like this, and the scent was strange, foreign and dark. It was not the smell of her home, certainly, and this puppy did not belong here. It was not a case of a trespasser, though, with a puppy. Young puppies like this (Like I once was, she thought, thinking back to her own antics) did not belong out on their own. Was the puppy lost?

"Hello there," she said with a smile, lowering her face to rest on her paws as her chest pressed into the snow so that her face was level with the little puppy's own. "Are you lost?" she asked, her tone tinged with confusion as the puppy licked her paws.

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