They were supposed to love him. He loved them. He hadn’t hurt them, had he? If he had, he didn’t mean it! “Ro, stop playin’ games,” he whined, trembling as his tired legs struggled to keep moving, “not funny!” Finally, Elliot collapsed into a snivelling heap of dark fur, nose buried into the grass. It didn’t tickle him like it used to, didn’t make him laugh. “Ya got me. ‘m scared.” He wasn’t a baby, he didn’t say things like this. They were just playing a really mean prank on him, weren’t they! They had been for a while now. Long enough for his tummy to rumble with an uncomfortable hunger. He’d devoured what little he could, though the cache was empty and slim pickings from rabbit carcasses was hardly enough for a growing pup.
Maybe the big, scary wolf had come back? What if he had hurt his family? He couldn’t smell the man with the scary words. No, he definitely couldn’t. “Ma,” he croaked again, curling his body up as tightly as possible. Why had they left him? What had he done wrong? “You win, okay Aphrodite? Just please stop playin’ this game. I don’t like it.” Pitiful whines escaped him as he tucked himself into the grass, tired and scared. His little legs hurt from all the searching he had done and that awful, awful pain in his heart just wouldn’t go away.