“Life is like the river, sometimes it sweeps you gently along and sometimes the rapids come out of nowhere.”
― Emma Smith
Nyota traipsed along the edge of the river, closely followed by Usiku, who looked quite wary of the raging waters that were tossed about in the river. A slate colored appendage bobbed above the crashing tides, a dire expression etched onto the face of the wolf. Her body was thrown mercilessly in the waves, but she could do nothing, which paralyzed her in fear. Her mind was blank, and all it could process was the pain. The horrid, inevitable pain. But Nyota and Usiku could never have sensed the pain she was enduring, but no one ever could have. Only the victims of such a similar fate could have. The two siblings observed the adolescent, mercy reflected in their almost identical optics. Nyota submerged herself easily into the water, paddling frantically to get to the small wolf enveloped in thrashing waves. The current died down mildly, but the young canine still could not surpass the barbarous waves. Usiku fathomed the wolf’s injuries while watching her sister rescue her. Nyota quickly grabbed the juvenile’s scruff, heaving her desperately towards mainland. Usiku, being vigorously afraid of water, stepped into the shallow part. It didn’t crash into the bank or anything, so she waited to embrace Nyota and the unknown wolf. Nyota came swimming through the waves, her pelt repelling minor amounts of heavy water waiting to drag her farther into their depths. Her paws cut through the water, pushing off with exhales. The water furiously collided against her pelt, while the wolf hung seemingly lifeless in her jaws, exhausted from fighting the ruthless currents of the raging river. Nyota anchored her paws onto the bank while Usiku took the atramentous wolf’s scruff carefully and pulled her up to examine her briskly. The wolf didn’t look particularly different from normal wolves. In fact, she almost looked similar to them. But the resemblance seemed rather vague, and it was most likely another one of her imagination’s escapades. Suddenly, the young she-wolf shook, and she began to cough up water and what looked like some blood. Her coughs were strained and breathless, she must have been rather mottled from her little river plunge. She grunted and began to shakily rise to her paws, muttering unfamiliar names and muffled words she couldn’t make out. Nyota turned around and carefully rushed her back down. That was when the strange adolescent opened her eyes. Their optics full of mercy matched hers of fear, and like an uncanny puzzle, the pieces finally fit together. Life would never be the same after that day.