Josette tip-toes closer to the mewling, pushing aside a tangle of vines. A soft gasp escapes her plump, rosy lips. "Ooh!" she cries, stepping free of the overgrowth.
Inside a small clearing, a gentle flowing brook gurgles. Wildflowers abound and birds of all kind flock in the myriad trees. "It's so lovely!" she whispers.
As she takes in the strange beauty of this secluded spot, her eye falls on a large rock in the middle of the stream. In a nest of dried ferns and grass lies a small gray cub. A wolf cub.
At once the young girl is filled with fear for certainly the mother cannot be far.
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